The Night of Bigfoot
by Andamogirl
Summary: James West, Artemus Gordon and Moira O'Donnell, a childhood friend of Artie head to the forest in the region of Mount St. Helens in Washington Territory in order to capture Bigfoot. Once there, they end up caught in the middle of a terrible blizzard and adventures ensue. Guests stars: Bigfoot and a group of Chinook Indians.
1. Teaser

**THE NIGHT OF BIGFOOT**

**By Andamogirl**

References to the following episodes; "The Night of the Juggernaut". (This episode took place production-wise after "TNOT Avaricious Actuary," where Ross Martin broke his leg. Thus the script was rewritten where Artie's leg was broken in the opening scene, accounting for his wearing the cast in later scenes. A double was used for the scenes where Artie had to walk around) and "The Night of the Gypsy Peril."

References to my stories called "The Night of the Comanche Moon" and "The Night of the Mexican Imposture", explaining how Artemus got a tattoo on his back. References to other stories of mine, "The Night of the Trek Among the Stars", "The Night of the Ice Cold Death", "The Night of the Werewolf". You can read "The Night of the Outlaw" too in which Artemus's mom appears for the first time in my stories along with Dr. Harry Clover who is sharing her life.

_Gordon: Did you have to ruin my cake?_

_West: It was either your cake or my reputation._

The Night of the Infernal Machine

_Emma Valentine: Which do you prefer? Blondes, brunettes, or redheads?_

_Jim: Yes. All three._

The Night of the Vicious Valentine

_Artie: How'd you like my coyote?_

_Jim: That was a coyote?_

_Artie: I had three answering calls from females proposing marriage._

The Night of the Gypsy Peril

WWW

**TEASER**

_Washington DC, in the Wanderer_

_In the evening_

_In the galley_

Sitting on a stool, his crutches leaning against the dresser, Artemus Gordon pushed up the sleeves of his yellow shirt past his elbows and tied his flowery apron behind his back. Then he began the task of kneading out the piece of dough he had previously covered with flour – across the floured table.

Sitting down on a stool too, in front of the older man, James West was slowly peeling a couple of white onions, his eyes stinging and teary.

Behind him there was a steaming pan of water placed on top of the hot stove.

Everything was calm, but not silent in the small galley. The water was boiling, the fire was crackling in the stove, Artie was pummeling the dough and Jim was peeling an onion - and there was a tempest outside. The blizzard was howling and gusts of snow were hitting the train mercilessly.

Looking up at his partner who had just expertly spread the dough with a rolling pin, Jim asked, "Are you sure that the President is going to come, Artie? There's a raging blizzard bearing down on Washington you know? It's feet deep in snow outside with no sign of the snow stopping." Then he wiped his wet eyes with the back of his calloused hand.

Draping the dough into a pie plate, Artemus nodded. "I know, Jim. But nothing can stop President Grant when he decides to do something, not even a snowstorm, you and I saw that during the war." He smiled. "Besides he knows that I'm going to cook something delicious for him tonight – and I'm proud to say that he loves my cuisine a lot. He wouldn't want to miss this dinner for the world."

Holding a still intact onion in his left hand, Jim said, "You didn't tell me what the menu is and what we are preparing Artie," and then he cut the top of the vegetable.

Nodding, Artemus pivoted on his rotating stool. "You're right, I was so busy that I forgot." He picked up a plate from the work surface containing pieces of smoked bacon lardons and using a knife, he started to dice them. "For the hors-d'oeuvre we'll start with a French potato, onion and bacon pie, in French it's called 'une tarte aux pommes de terre, aux oignons et aux lardons'. It's delicious, then we'll have a beef Stroganoff - my mom's recipe - with pasta as the main course and we'll end dinner with an apple pie for the dessert. And I didn't forget the wines. We have a lot to do! Come on Jim, time flies! Chop! Chop!"

Frowning, Jim stopped, halfway through peeling the onion; and said, "Your menu doesn't sound like something very elaborate… You have invited the President of the United States for dinner, Artie. He expects no ordinary dishes."

Turning around again, Artie took a frying pan from a drawer and then placed the pieces of smoked bacon in it. "_Au contraire_. Grant is the President, yes, but in his heart, he's still a soldier and he loves 'simple' cuisine, like pork and beans. My menu is therefore perfect for him." Using one crutch, he slowly moved toward the stove and sat the frying pan on the very hot top, beside the pan of boiling water. The pieces of smoked bacon almost immediately started to sizzle and gently fry. Looking at Jim roughly peeling the onion he was holding, on the verge of crying, he added, mockingly, "Using a knife on vegetables is not your forte, you prefer throwing it at things but a lot more at people "But you are perfect at everything else."

Dropping another peeled onion on a plate, Jim shook his head. "Thank you. You're right. I prefer using knives against our enemies."

Artie chuckled and expertly cut the freshly peeled onions into small chunks above the frying pan where they joined the pieces of smoked bacon going crispy.

He submerged a few potatoes in the boiling water and then said, "Maybe you could whisk the eggs, Jim. Take four of them."

Smiling Jim stood and bowed his head, "Yes, Master. Your wish is my command."

Using a wooden spatula, Artemus mixed the bacon and the caramelizing onions, "Just call me Chef, that's enough – kitchen boy." Then he added a pinch of pepper.

Jim took four eggs from the basket sitting on the worktop and the whisk from the drawer of the dresser. He cracked each egg dumping the contents into a large terracotta mixing bowl.

Suddenly there was an unexpected knock at the door of the galley and Ulysses S. Grant entered the small room, smiling broadly. "Mmm, it smells good. Hello boys," he said.

Both men stared with wide, surprised eyes as the President of the United States walked in, then Jim said, "Good afternoon Sir."

Reddening with utter embarrassment Artemus said, "Mr. President? But-but nothing's ready yet…" Then he started to fret "I'm still working on the hors-d'oeuvre. I was expecting you at 7 PM. It's only 5 PM! I still have so many things to do!"

President Grant raised his left hand in a peaceful gesture. "Calm down Artemus. I came here earlier because of the snow tempest. I didn't want to be stuck at the White House because of the snow. I left before the roads became impassable. I wouldn't miss this dinner for the world." He spotted Artie's crutch, frowned in worry and asked, "How is your leg, Artemus? Are you still in pain?"

Setting the frying pan aside on a trivet sitting on the table, a relaxing Artemus replied, "Much better Sir. The pain is gone. I can walk better, but I still need my crutches because it's not easy to move with a plaster which goes from the foot up to the thigh." He sat down on his stool and started slicing the washed mushrooms going with the recipe for the beef Stroganoff. "Dr. Henderson should remove it at the end of the week – after four weeks of immobilization of the leg."

Grant nodded in appreciation. "It's good news."

Standing, Jim offered his stool to the other man, "Take my place Mr. President, please." Then he moved beside Artemus and reached out toward the terracotta bowl containing the non-whisked eggs. He explained, "I was going to whisk the eggs."

Taking his place on the stool in front of Artie, Grant chuckled and placed his hand on it. "Let me. I think I can handle it from here." And he did it.

Artie poured some double cream into the whisked eggs before seasoning it with a dash of pepper and salt and then he added a few pieces of thyme.

Grant used a large wooden spoon to stir the mixture and then asked, "Are you preparing a potato pie with bacon and onions?" He saw Artie nod and grinned. "I love it!"

Happy to hear that, Artie reddened with pleasure this time and he said, "Then we'll eat beef Stroganoff and ends the dinner with an apple pie."

The President stopped stirring the mixture and said, "It's perfect! And I suppose you chose a few good wines to accompany all that." Then he tapped the spoon he was holding a few times against the edge of the bowl before setting it down on the table.

Opening the mini refrigerated cellar Artemus said, "Of course I did, Sir." And he pulled out two bottles of wine he set down on the worktop. "This dry white wine with its pale yellow color has a very pleasant, delicate bouquet and subtle aromas and it will go down wonderfully with the potato pie with bacon and onions – or 'tarte aux pommes de terre, lardons et oignons'. It's a French recipe, so we'll eat it while drinking a French dry white wine produced in Burgundy. I chose a bottle of Chablis Grand Cru, it's a French whine dating from 1830. It's very rare." He paused, then he took the squat bottle of red wine enclosed in a straw basket, "This is a bottle of Chianti produced in the Chianti region, in central Tuscany, Italy, dating from 1840. It's pure nectar!"

Grant smiled. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but beef Stroganoff is a Russian dish of sautéed pieces of beef served in a sauce with sour cream… It's not very Italian."

Smiling too, Artie replied, "But pasta is, Sir." Looking at the pan of boiling water in which the potatoes had been immersed for a few minutes, he said, "Could you drain the potatoes Jim, the colander is in the cupboard above the sink. Then pour cold water on them to cool them, thank you."

Saluting, Jim said, "Yes Chef!" and then he moved toward the stove.

Grant grabbed the rest of the still intact mushrooms and using a knife he rapidly chopped them, then he asked, Artie. "How can I help now?"

Placing the plate of cooled potatoes on the table, Jim said, "You can help us peel the potatoes, Sir. It will be faster if there are three of us doing it."

The President nodded loving the idea. "Let's do it!" He said. "It's a nice change from my duties and it's refreshing after a whole day of paperwork."

The three men began peeling the tepid potatoes and then, once it was done, Artie cut them into thin slices with surgical precision.

He put half of the potato slices in an ovenproof dish and then put half of the crispy bacon and the caramelized onions over it.

He repeated this with the rest of the potatoes and bacon and onion. After that he poured the mixed whisked eggs and cream over the potatoes.

He suddenly snapped his fingers! "Oh boy! I forgot the cheese! There's a plate with some pieces of mozzarella di bufala behind you on the work plan, Jim."

Placing layers of Italian cheese on top of his hors-d'oeuvre, Artie said, "Now it needs to go in the oven for 30 minutes."

30 minutes later the hors-d'oeuvre was ready and steaming. Ulysses S. Grant couldn't help but smell the delightful aroma of the French potato, onions and bacon pie. The mozzarella had melted on the top and had a caramel color.

His mouth watering in anticipated pleasure he asked, "Can I taste it?" as Artemus cooking mitts protecting his skin, he placed the steaming dish on a trivet.

Artie shook his head, "Not now Sir. It's too hot. Later…"

Seeing that Grant was disappointed Jim proposed. "Put it on another plate and place it outside, on the rear platform, protected from the snow. It will be cooled in an instant."

Grant nodded. "Good idea."

Finding the idea good too, Artie just did that, and a few minutes later he could offer the President a cooled piece of his potato pie with bacon and onions.

The President took a bite, almost swallowing it in one mouthful. Then he moaned in near ecstasy, licking his fingers, "Dear God!" He let out.

Artie beamed.

WWW

_Later_

_Before dinner_

Sitting on the twin couches of the parlor car, Jim, Artemus and the President were sipping a glass of Byrrh (Artie's latest foreign liquor acquisition), which was a French aromatized wine-based aperitif, chatting about the last gossip of the Capital – when a knock on the door made the three men look to the door, the decorated glass panel being covered in sheets of ice.

Surprised, like his companions, Artie said, "We are not expecting anyone." Then he shifted into special agent protection mode.

Standing, Jim proposed, "Maybe it's someone from the White House Sir?"

Ulysses S. Grant's eyebrows drew closer together as he was upset at the idea. "I hope not. I made myself clear before leaving the White House. I didn't want to be disturbed while being here with you – I haven't even started dinner."

Grabbing the gun he kept under one of the cushions – just in case something bad happened – Artie pointed it at the door ready to defend the POTUS.

Hearing Artie cocking the hammer back on the Colt he was holding, Jim opened the door… ready to use the Derringer hidden in his sleeve if necessary, revealing a silhouette bundled up in a thick, heavy furred coat, furred hat, furred mittens and wooly scarf. Outside the ice-cold air was full of thick, heavy snow, the strong wind tossing it every which way.

He grabbed one arm and roughly pulled the visitor inside before hurriedly closing the door as swirls of frigid air and big, fat, snowflakes entered the room.

Using a crutch to stand, Artemus moved in front of Grant to shield him with his body and pointed his revolver at the uninvited guest. "Raise your hands!" He ordered.

Removing her furred mittens first, then unwinding the thick wooly scarf from around her nose and mouth, a woman's voice said, "That's not a nice way to welcome an old friend, Artemus." Then she loosened it enough so she could tug it down around her throat. "Hello brother!" She added with a smile, intensely blue eyes crinkling at the corners, while she was removing her chapka, revealing short raven hair.

Lifting his eyebrows, Jim was stupefied. "Brother?" then he furrowed his brow, puzzled. Artemus was an only child. "What?"

His eyes opening wide in great surprise, Artemus exclaimed, "Great jumping balls of Saint Elmo's fire! Moira!" Then he lowered his gun.

Moira chuckled as she dropped her mittens, scarf and chapka on the work table. "Hello Artemus., it's good to see you I missed you." Then she took off her coat – revealing a brown bolero jacket pantsuit, white shirt and black string tie and then bowed her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. President. I was looking for you. They told me at the White House that I would find you here tonight."

Ulysses S. Grant stood and smiling, headed toward the lovely woman and taking her hand, pressed a light kiss on top of it. "It's a pleasure to see you again too, Miss O'Donnell. I didn't know you were back in Washington and that you were Artemus's friend."

Moira O'Donnell winked at Artie. "Well, we've known each other for a long time, Mr. President. We are childhood friends – well, more like brother and sister. My parents had a house in Green Hill. We used to be neighbors and best friends, until we were 14. Then my parents and I moved to Chicago. But we stayed in contact since that time and we see each other from time to time." Her brow crinkled with concern when she noticed Artie's plaster behind his cut open right pants leg and his crutches. "You broke your leg? What happened?"

Smiling Artie waved a hand. "Oh, it's nothing. A large box fell on my right leg during a mission and my tibia was fractured. I'm fine, Moira. It's not – was not a complicated fracture. I healed nicely. I didn't even need surgery. Dr. Henderson will remove the plaster at the end of the week. Drop your clothes on the back of the chair and join me, please."

Moira folded her furred coat on the back of the chair as a gust of wind rattled the glass-paneled door. "I had never been here before… " And made a quick survey of the comfortable and elegant parlor car. "Hmm, it's very nice and comfortable. You described the train in your letters but you never invited me to visit the Wanderer, Artemus. Tsk! Tsk!"

Moira joined Artemus and the two of them hugged. Then Artie kissed Moira's' brow. "And when? You're always going away somewhere and Jim and I are always traveling throughout the country. For us to meet is almost a miracle!"

Miss O'Donnell brushed her fingers along Artemus's temple, gently tucking back the lock of dark hair she found there. "I missed you."

They pressed their foreheads together. "I missed you too," Artie said.

Pause.

Outside the furious and howling blizzard was battering the train. Inside, in the galley it was calm; warm and it smelled good.

Feeling a little forsaken, Jim cleared his throat loudly and then said, "Hi! My name is James West and I'm Artemus's best friend and partner."

Looking at Jim Moira said, "I know who you are, Mr. West. Artemus told me everything about you in his letters. It's a pleasure to meet you in person."

His jaw hanging low, Jim felt his heart speed up as he was instantly smitten. Moira O'Donnell had the most incredible light blue eyes he had seen in his life and they robbed him of his breath. He smiled broadly, seductively. "And it's a pleasure to meet you." Looking at Artemus, now frustrated, he added, "Why didn't you ever tell me about Miss O'Donnell, Artie? I would have liked to meet her earlier."

In response Artie sent a meaningful look to his partner. "To treat her like one of your conquests? A dinner, a dance and then…" He paused, reddening, embarrassed to say 'a night of wild sex' in front of the POTUS and Moira and skipped it. "No way! Moira is like a sister to me. I never told you about her in order to protect her from Jim - Don Juan – West, to prevent her from being seduced and then dumped in the morning after breakfast and a goodbye kiss, and of course, from having her heart broken."

Feeling offended, Jim scowled and he replied, "Says the man who attracts all the lovely young women when he's in the Capital – and I'm sure you don't just have tea with them and regale them with the stories of our adventures…"

Raising a hand in a 'make peace' gesture, the President said with a fatherly disapproving look, "That's enough boys! I don't like it at all when you quarrel with each other… and don't forget there's a woman here. Show some respect."

Both Artie and Jim looked at the President sheepishly and said, "I'm sorry, Sir," in a chorus.

Moira laughed good-naturedly. "Boys are boys, Sir. I don't mind at all. All my companions in exploration are men, so I'm used to hear them talk about things that a woman shouldn't hear, like touting their sexual intercourse with dozens of women, and believe me, it's a lot worse than what Artemus and Jim just said. Actually they sound like choir boys in comparison."

Changing of subject of conversation, Artie asked his childhood friend, "Can I offer you a glass of Byrrh, Moira? It's a French aperitif."

She shook her head. "No, thank you, Artemus."

Jim proposed, "A cup of coffee perhaps?"

Moira shook her head again. "No, nothing, thank you."

Gesturing to the closest couch Grant said, "Please seat down Moira and tell me about your latest adventure in the Himalaya Mountains."

Moira caught Jim's astonished look and explained, "I'm an explorer and scientist with specializations in both anthropology and zoology. I left my post at the New York University to travel around the world, searching for fabulous animals, creatures and monsters." She took her place beside the President; waited for Jim and Artie to take their place on the couch opposite and then she continued, "I was part of an international expedition trying to find the famous Yeti; or Abominable Snowman. My companions and I spent two months in the kingdom of Nepal, but unfortunately we didn't find it… " And she grimaced with spite.

Jim nodded. "I remember reading articles about it in the Washington Chronicle – and in other newspapers. There has been a lot of publicity on this particular issue all over the world. Now I can put a face to the famous professor O'Donnell."

Upset to hear that, Moira briefly glared at Jim then, she continued, "One day we found the Yeti's footprints and our local guides informed us, they belonged to the creature they call 'metoh-kangmi'. Metoh" translates as "man-bear" and "Kang-mi" translates as "snowman". We followed the Yeti's footprints toward a huge chasm in the ice but we couldn't go further because of it. That chasm didn't stop the creature as we spotted its footprints in the snow on the other side. it had probably climbed up there or jumped… By the time we were around the chasm, a terrible storm came up and we lost track of it. We headed back toward our base camp further down the valley. The blizzard didn't stop for three weeks after that so we decided to leave. Our expedition was over." She turned toward Grant and added, "I have gathered precious intelligence during my journey to the kingdom of Nepal Sir, and on the way back too. I will send you my report as soon as possible." Looking at a puzzled Jim, she said, "I also work for the Secret Service, occasionally."

Stunned Artemus said, "I didn't know that." Then he frowned a bit upset. "I thought we had a pact Moira. No secret between us."

Moira stood, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on his cheek, then she took a step back and said, "I know, I was so busy I completely forgot to tell you. Please forgive me."

Smiling Artemus said, "You are forgiven."

She gave him a peck on the tip of his nose to thank him and then she took her place back on the couch beside the President of the United States.

Grant explained. "Miss O'Donnell travels all around the world for her job, so I asked her if she wanted to work for the Secret Service to gather information when she's abroad, and she accepted. It's been two years now." He glanced at Moira and asked, "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

Moira shook her head. "No, Sir, not yet." And her stomach chose that exact moment to growl it needed to be filled, pronto. "And I'm hungry."

Using one crutch to stand, Artemus said, "Good! You're invited to dinner. I prepared enough food for four persons, now excuse me, I have to see if my beef has stewed enough and not burnt." He left the room on his crutches to enter the galley shortly after.

Moira get a waft of a delicious smell and found her mouth watering.

Intrigued, Jim asked, "May I know why you are here tonight? It has to be urgent and important, otherwise you could have waited for the blizzard to pass."

Moira nodded, "You're right it's urgent and important. I wanted to see the President and Artemus and you too. So I killed two birds with one stone." She paused and explained, "A friend of mine Liz Hudson living in the region of the Columbia River's mouth in Washington Territory sent me a letter two weeks ago thinking I was in Washington. In that letter she told me that she was collecting mushrooms in the forest behind her house when she saw… Bigfoot! I know, it's incredible! But when it saw her, it ran off into the trees. It was far away from her but she couldn't miss such a large, black-brown-haired, muscular and upright-walking, ape-like being. She headed where she had seen it and she saw, in the mud, footprints, almost human but impossibly large. I came here to ask the President to authorize Artemus and you to take me there. I need to find this creature as soon as possible while it's still in the vicinity! With this train I can be there in a few days, while with a passenger train and stagecoaches, a month!" She paused again, and excited, she added, "No one has ever captured Bigfoot – for now. I want to be the first one to capture it!"

Rubbing his chin, a skeptic Jim asked, "Is she sure it's Bigfoot Miss O'Donnell? It could be a very large grizzly bear."

Moira shook her head. "No, Liz's description of that creature matches Bigfoot's." She paused. "It exists you know, like the Yéti in Himalaya."

Jim asked, "How do you propose to capture it?"

Moira looked at Artie. "Put it to sleep using a dart filled with a powerful sleeping drug. Artemus has a tranquilzer rifle as he calls it, I know."

The President took Moira's hand in his, pressing it warmly. "You have my authorization Moira. The Wanderer and both Jim and Artemus are at your service. Jim will be at your side to find this creature. Artemus will stay in the train because of his leg still being on the mend."

Jim cringed. Artemus won't like that. "Sir, we should reach Washington Territory in a week or so, not before. By then Artemus's leg will be healed – and his plaster removed. I'll do it. I promise you he won't do anything too strenuous."

Grant nodded. "Alright, Artemus will come too, as you can't be separated from your partner, you're like twins."

Artemus left the galley and entered the parlor room, holding a serving plate on which he had placed his potato pie with bacon and onions – with a piece missing. "A table!" He called.

Tbc.


	2. Act One

**THE NIGHT OF BIGFOOT**

**By Andamogirl**

WWW

**ACT ONE**

_Later_

_After dinner_

Ulysses S. Grant closed the door of the Wanderer and shivered, pushing his hands deeper into the pockets of his black jacket. "It's freezing out here! Brrr!" We are snowed in, I'm afraid There's snow and ice up to the rear platform. I've never seen so much snow in Washington in my whole life. Moira my dear, you and I won't be able to go anywhere for the next while, so I guess we'll be staying here until the storm is over," he said.

Pouring coffee into a mug, Artie said, "Don't worry Sir. The stateroom is always ready for you and you left night clothes here along with toiletries the last time you spent a few days with us."

Moira looked at Artemus. "And I'm sure Artemus has nice comfy pajamas for me and a spare toothbrush and toothpaste."

The President joined his agents and Moira sitting around the table covered with a pot of coffee, four mugs, four spoons, a box of cigars, one of cigarillos and one of matches, four glasses and a bottle of brandy.

Sitting back on the chair he had vacated 30 seconds earlier, Grant said, "I told Julia this situation could happen, so she's not going to worry, and I'm safe here with you."

Placing one of Jim's cigarillo between her teeth, Moira said, "Then I'm stuck here too because I can't go home either." Then she struck a match and lighted up her small cigar. Then she poured brandy in her coffee and mixed the two liquids with a spoon.

Noticing that Jim was a bit surprised to see her – act like a man would - she added, "I am the least girly girl on Earth! I have an older brother, so I was kind of like a tomboy, always following him around. I smoke cigars, drink liquor, dress in masculine clothes and I can shoot any kind of guns and rifles."

Artie asked, "How's your brother?"

She took a sip of brandy-laced coffee and replied, "Oh he's fine! He had a promotion last month. He's now captain of his own ship, the USS Abraham Lincoln. I'm very proud of him!"

Grant nodded. "He'll be a fine captain."

Offering the mug filled with steaming coffee to the President, Artie said, "I'm going to give you my bed Moira, I have a cot in my lab and I will spend the night there. I use it when I spend almost the whole night doing experiments and I'm too tired to go to bed."

Moira smiled broadly. "Thank you Artemus, you're a gentleman." Then she took a deep drag from his big cigar and puffed out a long, slow breath of smoke.

WWW

_Later,_

_In the lab_

Lying on the cot in his lab, his back propped up on two pillows Artemus was reading the last chapter of a book on botany when there was a knock at the door.

He glanced at the door, raised his voice and said, "Come in!"

Moira entered the room a few seconds later, barefoot and wearing a pair of Artie's flannel pajamas far too big for her slender body. "I didn't know if you were asleep…" She said, closing the door behind her. Then she glanced at the large room plunged in semi-darkness, lit only by a lantern sitting on the small table which was settled beside the cot. "Hmmm… Artemus's den."

There was a dresser on the right covered with pharmacy pots and a long table occupied the left side. Chemistry equipment, a microscope, Bunsen burners, sketchbooks, pencils, weapon models and various gadgets were sitting on it, pell-mell. "I love it! I guess you spend all your free time here inventing all kinds of gadgets and bombs for your partner and you…"

Propping himself on his elbows, Artie smiled and then said, "Yes, exactly. You look lovely in my pajamas, Moira. What's brings you here in the middle of the night?"

Moira sat down beside Artie on the portable bed and said, "You had a great idea to install those large heating copper coils in the train otherwise we would be shivering! It's freezing outside! You have always been very ingenious. Does it work with the boiler of the locomotive?"

He nodded. "Exactly. It's a water heating system. But it's something temporary and experimental, I will remove after winter. I replaced the cast iron employed in radiators by copper pipes for better heat transfer to the surrounding air. If it works, like I think it will, I will then create radiators - I mean convectors as those devices transfer heat mainly by convection – to fit-out the Wanderer. And I will provide them with a thermostatic valve which could be used to control the temperature of a room by changing the flow of hot water circulating through exposed pipes, which is not the case with the current system. I'm working on it and on the aesthetic side of them, of course."

Moira nodded, impressed. "You're a genius Artemus and a great inventor! And you're brilliant at everything you do," and smiled when he blushed with both pleasure and pride." Hearing the whistling gusts of wind pummeling the train, she asked, "Do you think we'll be able to leave Washington tomorrow morning?"

Artemus moved to sit up until his back was up against the piled pillows and responded, "I don't know. Snowdrifts are encasing the train. We'll see tomorrow what to do. now answer my question, Moira."

She slid her hand under Artemus's. "I don't like sleeping alone – being alone. I mean I'm always traveling with my men and they are around me day and night. I got used to it. Can I stay with you?" I won't take much space, I'm a petite woman."

Embarrassed he shook his head. "Moira, it's not a good idea…"

She sat on the edge of the small bed and took Artie's hand in his, pressing it. She batted her eyelashes with a huge pout on her face. "Please." Then, she had a mocking smile and asked, "What are you afraid of?"

Uncomfortable, but not showing it, Artie raised his chin, falsely offended. "Nothing."

Moira grinned. "Good! I promise I'm not going to jump on your bones – you're like a brother to me and you're not my type - no offense - I prefer tall, blond eyed men with a square jaw and a high forehead, like Ingmar my Swedish companion – it's too bad he's married."

Lowering himself onto his back, Artemus chuckled. "None taken. Jim is going to be so disappointed. Because you're definitively his type. You're petite, thin, brunette, with a perfect body, a strong will – and you know how to use revolvers and rifles. Did I mention that you are a beautiful woman too?"

Moira blushed with pleasure. "Thank you, and you're a handsome man Artemus. I'm sure that all women you meet want to have you in their bed... "

Shaking his head, Artie replied, "Well, no woman can resist my good looks and my charm… with two exceptions, Lily Fortune and you."

Moira folded back the blankets on the unoccupied side of the small bed and not waiting for an invitation, she slid under the bedclothes, and then she asked, "What happened with Lily?"

Artie sighed, still feeling a little pain in his heart. "I met her two years ago and I fell in love with her again. It was like a second love at first sight. I thought she had the same feelings, but I was wrong. I was so in love with her that I asked her to marry me and… she said no, and my heart broke…" He said in a defeated voice. He paused and added, "And it will take time for it to be intact again."

Nestling against Artemus, Moira snorted and said, "She's an idiot! Don't worry Artemus, one day you'll find the one for you."

She shifted a little, finding a comfortable position and snuggled all up against Artie – who gulped feeling deeply embarrassed as he couldn't ignore Moira's curves and her warmth against him and couldn't ignore his rapidly tensing body. He couldn't help but focus on the nice feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest and her hips meeting his… A bright blush crossed his face. 'Think about something else, old boy,' he begged his brain as he stiffened.

Feeling Artie becoming as rigid as a statue, Moira chuckled softly. "Relax, Artemus." Then she settled one hand on Artie's hip, the other arm tucked under her neck. "We slept together – side by side - in the same bed when we were teenagers, it's not different."

Doing his best to keep his body's reactions at bay, Artemus said, his voice hoarse, "It's very different now. We are both adults and… and…" He clutched at the bedspread in discomfort. "God please, go back to your room." Heat was rising throughout his body and his control declining. "Now!"

Moira shook her head. "Nope! It's warm, I'm comfortable and I'm staying – and you don't have to give me orders, and even if you could do it, I would disobey, I can't stand being ordered." She snuggled closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder with a pleased hum.

He closed his eyes in resignation. "Alright, you win. You can stay… But I could use a cold shower now." And heard her burst out laughing.

He turned over, offering Moira a view of his back and the nape of his neck, facing the opposite direction to his female best friend and he somehow regained control of his emotions and body reactions.

She grinned and spooned against him wrapping one arm around him – eliciting a gasp. "It's even worse like this right?"

Artemus heaved a long-suffering sigh. "You love teasing me, don't you?"

Moira nodded, a smirk on her face. "Why do you think I'm here with you?" She paused and added, "And I'm going to tease you for days to come."

He groaned. "Oh great!" He frowned disapprovingly. "You lied to me, Moira. We promised no to tell lies to each other."

Moira grinned. "It doesn't count if lies are part of a good plan, and it was good one." She palpated his side and he giggled. "Still ticklish… "Good night Artemus, pleasant dreams…" Then she closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep, a wicked smile on her lips.

Bodies pressed together.

He sighed, whispered, "Boy! You're impossible!" then listened to the Wanderer which was groaning under the wind's assault, the blizzard reaching its full force.

Moira nuzzled her face in between Artie's shoulder blades, "Good night, Artemus."

He whispered, "Good night Moira," before he yawned and he finally dozed off, relaxing in Moira's warm, affectionate embrace.

Moira lay awake, listening to Artie's slow, even breathing mixed with the howling blizzard battering the train until she fell asleep.

WWW

_The next morning_

Noticing that the silent galley was Artemus-less and that there was no breakfast in sight – Jim headed toward the lab.

He was hungry and the President – who was in the bathroom, taking a bath – would need to eat something soon too. And nothing was ready! He thought.

He knocked at the door, opened it a few seconds later and stepped inside the lab plunged in semi-darkness as the light of dawn was passing through the windows.

He increased the light coming from the wall lamp to his right adding more light in the big room. "Wake up Artie!" it's time to get up!" he said.

He turned around and froze on the spot in utter surprise – discovering Artie and Moira snuggled together beneath the blankets, sharing the small bed.

Moira had her head pillowed on Artie's chest and the two had their arms and legs intertwined under the bedspread.

He rolled his eyes. Brother and sister? Ah come on! No more, he thought.

He moved closer and saw Moira stirring and opening her eyes. "Good morning," he said to her. "Did you sleep well Miss O'Donnell?"

She smiled. "Call me Moira, please. And yes, I slept very well… Artemus is very comfy. It's a huge change. He was so bony when he was a teenager, he was all angles."

Suddenly a smile appeared on Artie's lips while rubbing one fist over his dry eyes. "Comfy? You mean that I'm a little bit fat?" He gasped in surprise as Moira pinched one love-handle, then he laughed. "Hey! Don't do that! I'm not a piece of dough!"

She brushed some of his hair out of his face. "I know." She kissed his nose, then Artie choked on a giggle and jerked as she tickled his bare foot with her toes.

Looking up at Jim, Artie noticed an arched eyebrow and disapproving look and pursed lips. "I know what you're thinking. No, you're wrong, nothing happened. we just 'slept' together, from the verb sleep, to rest by sleeping; be asleep. That's all. Moira and I are best friends – period. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

Smiling Jim couldn't help but sigh in relief.

Artie held back a smirk as he realized that his partner was attracted to Moira – who wasn't interested in him and would let him know, later, when she realizes he wants to seduce her. 'Poor Jim you can't win them all!' he thought.

Moira chuckled. "He's telling the truth. I spent the night with him – just to have fun, expecting him to be embarrassed as I was snuggling against him, and he was, oh boy!" She sat up on the cot and reached over to ruffle Artemus's already messy wild locks affectionately. "I love you." She looked up at Jim again and added, "I love teasing him mercilessly, always have and always will." She stretched, her stomach growling it needed to be fed and soon. "I'm hungry! What's for breakfast? I could eat a horse."

Sending Artie a meaningful look, he said, "Well breakfast will be ready when Artie prepares it. I am unable to boil an egg. He's the Chef on board."

Moira stood and patted Jim's arm, "Let's see if I'm a better Chef than him, well I am. I'm going to prepare breakfast! I suppose that the galley is filled with everything I need?"

Artie nodded. "I did the shopping two days ago, you will find everything you need in the cupboards and in the mini cold storage."

Moira smiled. "Good! I don't want to see anyone in the galley. I like to cook alone and I'm going to need time, two hours for what I want to do. " Then she headed toward the door. "See you later Magnus! And save me some hot water will you! I need to take a bath."

Once she had left the lab, Jim sat on the edge of the cot and looked at the older man with a broad smile on his face. "She calls you Magnus too?"

Propping himself on his elbows, Artemus responded, "Yes, as you know all my friends called me Magnus when I was a boy, Moira included. Magnus. Magnus means 'great' in Latin, and it was a Roman first name. They called me that because I could do many things: play all the music instruments, read and speak Greek and Latin fluently…"

Jim nodded. "I know and too, because your first name sounds Roman. Artemus Magnus." Smiling he said, "It could have been worse, she could have called you Artie."

Holding back an eye roll Artie said, "Very droll Jim." He slowly and gently moved into a sitting position and pricked up his ears. No blizzard. "The snow tempest is gone!"

Pointing at the door, Jim said, "Moira likes teasing you, likes to compete with you to show she's better than you… and I'm sure she loves playing pranks on you. Boy! I don't regret being an only son, having such a sister must be exhausting." He helped his best friend to sit and added, "Even if she's your surrogate sister." Then he gave the other man his crutch. "She's one of a kind!"

Artie smiled. "Oh yes, and she has a great amount of affection for me and she's also very protective towards me, like big sisters are with younger siblings. I adore her."

Jim was stunned. "She's older than you? But she looks a lot younger than you!"

Artie chuckled. "She's three years older than me, Jim, it's not a lot, but enough for me to be her little brother. Time seems to have little influence on her. Help me please?"

Helping his partner to stand, Jim said, "The snow tempest is gone but walls of snow are piled everywhere in the Capital. Washington is in shutdown. Roads, cabs, trains, shops, saloons, etc. are closed – and all the federal buildings too. The president received a message early this morning. Troops are on their way to remove the snow, here included."

Stretching like a cat, Artie said, "Good!"

WWW

_Later, in the parlor car_

Looking at the snowed-up windows President Grant said, "Soldiers are clearing the snow around the train and in the streets of Washington as I speak. I will be able to come back to the White House after breakfast." He glanced again at the table covered with a gargantuan breakfast composed of baked goods, jam, fruit, and coffee, of a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, beans, and roasted mushrooms and tomatoes and pancakes, toast and bread with butter jam, honey. "But I'm thinking of coming back here every morning to have such a huge and wonderful breakfast, bravo Moira!"

Giving Artie a playful wink, Jim said, "Even your big, copious breakfasts are boring compared to all this… even her coffee is better than yours." Looking at Grant – ignoring Artie's mocking scowl - he asked, not hiding his amusement, "Could I have Moira as my new partner, Mr. President?"

Knitting his eyebrow Artie looked falsely offended.

The POTUS chuckled softly. "No, you're stuck with Artemus, Jim. You can't be separated, like the two sides of a coin can't."

Moira smiled. "Give a man good food and he'll do anything for you." Then she patted Artemus's hand. "I'm an overseas agent. Working here – even traveling throughout the country doing what you do - doesn't appeal to me. It's not exciting, extraordinary and exotic enough to me."

Feeling a bit offended, Jim said, "Our assignments are not boring. They are filled with action, adventure, mystery, it's far from being boring, you know?"

Moira smiled soothingly. "I never said that. I know by Artemus's letters and conversations with me that you have a thrilling life, but your assignments are not as extraordinary as mine…"

Raising his hand, Artie said, "We are not chasing the Yeti in the Himalayas for example but Jim and I traveled back in time to the Prehistoric era, avoided being killed by mammoths, met Aztecs, fought dragon-like creatures, traveled in space on a spaceship…"

Moira was flabbergasted. "What? How is it possible?"

Grant cleared his throat. "That mission is top secret, I want you to keep it that way, not a word to anyone," he said.

Pleased to see that Moira was utterly stupefied – and gaping, being silent - and impressed and a little less patronizing, Jim added, "Our life is amazing, fantastic, and literally out of this world! 'One point for us!' he added in his mind. "Without forgetting that Artie's mind was transferred into a cat's head – no a kitten's head – that he was de-aged to a five year-old boy… Oh! And he was transformed into a werewolf too."

Moira opened her eyes incredibly wide and stared at Artemus. "What?... A werewolf? I… I spent years looking for one to capture one…" Spreading marmalade on a piece of toast, Artemus suddenly realized something. "Speaking of Marmalade…" He looked around him and spotted none of the three resident cats in the room. "Where are the cats?"

President Grant struck a match against the side of the table and said. "They're in the Stateroom, napping. As soon as I opened the door earlier this morning they came in and leaped on the bed." Then he lit his first cigar of the day.

His worry gone Artie stabbed a sausage with his fork and said, "Trying to capture Big Foot is going to be an exciting adventure!"

WWW

_Later in the morning_

Standing in the shower stall, his back facing the door, his cast waterproofed with a long impermeable bag, Artie picked up a bottle of mint-scented shampoo siting on a shelf.

He poured some onto his hair, put the bottle back in its place and then, humming, Chopin Nocturne Op.9 No.2, he began working the shampoo into a lather on his soaked curls.

Keeping his head down so the soapy water still dripping off his hair didn't get in his eyes, he scrubbed down to his scalp, until his hair was like a big mass of bubbles.

He worked his fingers through his foamy hair one last time before turning the warm, not too hot water on again a couple of minutes later and dipped his head under the spray, rinsing the soapy suds away.

He suddenly froze when he heard the bathroom door open and then shut.

He called, "Jim?"

He heard a 'no, it's not Jim' coming from Moira.

He hurriedly grabbed the towel from a hook placed on the wall. "Moira! Damnit!" He spluttered as he wrapped his hips in it, tying it on the side. "I was taking a shower!"

Moira nodded, "I noticed." She grinned. "It's not anything I haven't seen before," she said.

Artemus turned off the running water and slowly turned around being careful not to fall, the floor being slippery. His cheeks flared pink as he saw her in the doorway, flushed from embarrassment and from irritation. "It's the principle of it. Have you never heard about intimacy and decency?"

Moira leaning against the doorframe, grinning wickedly from ear to ear, shook her head. "Yes of course, but my curiosity took over. Sorry. I knew you were taking a shower, that's why I came in. I wanted to see your Comanche tattoo. I love it."

Leaving the shower stall Artemus glared at his childhood best friend, pursing his lips. "You could have waited until I got dressed, Moira."

She chuckled. "And not see your naked butt front at the same time? It was a bonus. Nice butt by the way." Then she turned around him, surveying what she could see of Artie's body. "Oh! You have another tattoo on your arm! It's a dragon! You didn't tell me about this one."

Shaking his hair out like a dog - splattering Moira with a shower of water droplets at the same time - Artemus stopped Moira, grabbing her by one arm and then said, "You're impossible! Where are your manners?" Then he released her, grabbed another towel from a rack and rapidly began rubbing his hair dry leaving wild locks sticking out in all directions.

She smiled. "You sound like my brother. They're gone, when I started to explore the world with a bunch of male companions who are rather boorish and who don't care about proprieties. It's like living with ten boisterous brothers. We share everything, where we sleep, where we bath, what we eat and drink, they take care of me when I'm sick or injured or both, I take care of them the same way…I saw them naked dozens of times, they saw me naked dozens of times too, there was no big deal." She moved behind him and using a fingertip, she traced the outlines of the black eagle tattooed on Artie's back. "It's beautiful. By the way, you didn't tell me anything about the ceremony that preceded your tattooing – or about your tattoo either."

Looking at Moira, Artie shook his head, "And I won't."

She frowned, upset. "Why? Tell me about it and I will show you mine and tell you the story linked to it. Deal?" She said.

He opened his eyes wide in surprise. "You have a tattoo?"

Moira nodded. "Yes, I have. It's not as big as yours, but it's as beautiful as yours." Then she lifted the jacket of the pajamas stopping it under her breasts.

He gasped. "Stop!"

Moira smiled wickedly. "I stopped, don't fret. Here is my tattoo." And she traced the outlines of two entwined dragons, one blue spitting bits of ice, the other red, spitting fire curled around her navel. "Someone told me one day, in China that I was like ice and fire... meaning that I can be cold, implacable and relentless and also bighearted, expansive and generous. I liked that so I asked a tattooist for a tattoo representing who I am – and he did this… "

Reaching out Artie couldn't help but touch the tattoo. "It's beautiful! It's a piece of art!" Then he moved his hand back.

She chuckled. "I think so too. You see, I'm a living paradox." She paused and then added, "So tell me about your story, come on."

Artie shook his head. "You forgot to mention obstinate in that list. No. And it's a firm no. That ceremony was sacred, Moira – it was a religious ritual, and I promised Chief Yellow Arrow not to talk about it to outsiders, not even to you. I didn't tell anything to Jim either, and I will keep my promise. As for my tattoo, as you can see, it represents an eagle with its wings spread wide open, it symbolizes the eagle that marked my back…" He paused feeling Moira touching the scars that the eagle had left in his skin and flesh with his talons. He added, "It's a highly symbolic tattoo and it's linked to religious beliefs. It's a mark of distinction and honor too. But tattooing that eagle on my lower back was awfully long, and awfully painful…"

Moira nodded, "I know. The tattooist spent three days working on my tattoo and the pain was almost unbearable, but I suppose that tattooing you was like a trip in hell given the rudimentary tools that the Indians used… Why did you accept being tattooed then? You didn't tell me."

Moving toward the dressing table, Artie replied, "As you know I was being tortured on that 'burning stone' by the Comanche when an eagle - the Sacred Kwihnai, eagle in Comanche language, which is the messenger between humans and the Big Father, the Creator god, most commonly identified with the sun - landed on my back, marking my back with its talons. Then he let out short calls while opening his broad wings wide – covering my body with its wingspan – signaling to the Comanche that the Big Father was protecting me. So, to thank the Comanche god for having saved my life – because the Comanche were going to kill me, no doubt of that, I gladly accepted being tattooed."

From the drawer he pulled out a straight razor, a shaving brush and a glass jar containing a white Chantilly-like cream.

Intrigued, Moira took it and asked, "A new invention?"

Opening the jar Artemus replied, "Shaving cream was used around 3000 BC by the Sumerian people. I didn't invent it. I improved the composition."

Fingering the Comanche Eagle again, still fascinated, Moira said, "You never told me either why you chose to put your tattoo there."

Artie sat on a chair, sideway, in front of the mirror, lifting up his leg immobilized in a heavy cast and settled it upon a stool.

He removed the long oiled canvas bag that protected it from the water and folded it before putting it to one side of the table. "At first Yellow Arrow wanted it on my front, with the body, head and legs of the eagle covering my chest, and its wings my shoulders, so anyone could see it, but I wanted something a little more discreet… so I chose my lower back, just above the waistline so it still can be seen, and I asked for a smaller tattoo too. Like I told you, tattooing that eagle was very, very, very painful; the Medicine Man hand-tapped the black dye – made with animal charcoal produced by charring animal bones – into my skin using sharp stone needles. Then, he removed the dye mixed with my blood with a cloth and my black eagle appeared on my skin… I did my best not to show the people around me that it was torture, and they appreciated my efforts. You see for the Comanche, tattooing is part of a process to emphasize in warriors the endurance of pain; and pain they believe brings a closer association with the Big Father. When it was over, it felt like a grizzly bear had mauled my lower back."

He covered the shaving brush with the shaving cream and lathered his face and neck. "Jim and I simply couldn't live without it now.." Then using a pitcher he poured steaming water in a large bowl.

Moira took the sharp blade in her hand. "Let me do that or you're going to slit your throat, your hand is trembling, from extreme tiredness."

Looking up at Moira's reflection in the mirror, he said, his voice strained, "I have never been able to hide anything from you. Yes, it's from great fatigue. The last mission was tiring – and my leg hurt like hell undermining all my strength and a compressed leg limits my comfort and prevents me from sleeping properly since the end of it – more than three weeks ago - despite the leave granted by Colonel Richmond."

Moira nodded. "Because of the pain in your leg. Why didn't you take laudanum? It could have helped you to sleep at night."

Shaking his head, Artie replied, "Yes and fogged my mind during the day. No. I had a lot of things to do, and I couldn't afford to sit idle."

Moira grabbed Artemus's cream-covered chin with her left hand. "You never stop, I know. But you should pay more attention to your health." She ran her thumb along the edge of the razor. "Lean your head back."

He smiled complying. "Yes mom."

She smiled too. "How is your mother and how is Harry?" Then she slowly dragged the sharp blade across Artie's skin.

Feeling Moira sliding the straight razor down his cheek to the corner of his jaw, smoothly, he responded, "Oh, they're fine. I spent the first week of my leave with them at home. It was nice to be pampered, doing nothing but eating, reading and sleeping."

Taking a towel from a shelf, Moira asked, "Then why did you leave? No let me guess, you had to do some work here."

He nodded. "Yes, I had to work on the water heating system before the beginning of winter. I engineered it, but had it built and installed. I would have done it myself if I hadn't had a broken leg."

Moira dipped the blade in the hot water, then wiped it in the towel. "Speaking of broken leg I think you should stay on board the Wanderer instead of going with us."

He shook his head before holding still as Moira following the curve of his jaw with the blade, exposing a stripe of smooth skin. "And leave you alone with Jim? Oh no!"

Moira chuckled. "I already told you, he's not my type of man, he has zero chance to seduce me. I'm not interested in him."

It was Artemus's turn to chuckle. "I'm worried about Jim because you're going to give him a rough time. You are as strong as him, you have as much character as him, you are not afraid of anything, like him, and you like to command, like him ... there will be some friction and sparks between you. I have to be there to smooth things over and avoid conflicts."

Moira cleaned the blade of cream and hair again in the bowl of water then wiped it again in the towel. "I didn't think about that. You will play the peacemaker then." She grinned. "Do you remember when I was fighting with that brute Peter Bedford who wanted to make the school his own kingdom? With the help of his bully minions? In order to impose his rules on everyone?"

Holding still as Moira shaved his other cheek, leaving a strip of pink in the layer of white foam that covered it, Artemus said, "Of course I remember. You were leading the resistance which I was part of. I was your faithful Lieutenant."

Moira nodded. "And you always interposed between the two of us before it degenerated, and one day it did. He hit you."

Holding still as Moira continued to shave his cheek, he said, "Yes he did. I came back home with a black eye and blood running from my nose."

Moira nodded, a broad grin on her face, "And this time I didn't hold back my punches. I knocked him out because he had hurt you."

Artie smiled. "He was so utterly humiliated after that – a girl had just put him KO in front of everyone – that he asked his parents to change his school and his minions stopped bullying the others. Peace came back in school after that." His smile broadened. "Let's hope that I won't end up with a black eye and a bloody nose interposing myself between Jim and you."

Moira dipped the razor in the water again and continued. "Have the two of you ever fought with each other?" She asked.

Keeping his face immobile, Artie replied, "We traded some punches yes, as part of a plan, or when I wasn't myself, like when I was drugged or hypnotized and thought Jim was my enemy, but we never fought against each other."

Moira chuckled. "You're like an old couple." Then, stroke by stroke she shaved away Artie's stubble. "Almost finished," she said. She took the towel, dipped a corner in the water and wiped off the remaining flecks of shaving cream. "All done, Magnus." She leaned down, stroked his smooth cheek slowly, then pressed a kiss to it. "Perfect! And you are as handsome as ever, Artemus Your face is clean and smooth."

Smiling, Artemus was kissing her back on her cheek when the door opened and Jim entered. "Well, you didn't drown I see," he said.

Moira shook her head. "It would be difficult while taking a shower… Artemus has finished. The bathroom is for me now."

Standing, Artie pointed at his bathrobe hanging on a coat hook attached to the door and said, "You are wearing a pair of my pajamas, my bathrobe is yours." He kissed Moira on her forehead and then added, "I'm going to prepare lunch, if of course you didn't empty all the cupboards containing the food supplies, otherwise I'll have to go shopping."

She sent Artie a sheepish smile. "I think we need food supplies before leaving Washington. But you aren't going to go out in your state with inches of snow everywhere. You could slip on a patch of ice and break your leg again. Or break another limb as your balance is disturbed. Jim is going to go grocery shopping for you. Make a list of what you need for him."

Jim wasn't too excited about going shopping – it wasn't his thing, but Artie's. "I have to stay here to protect the President."

Moira crossed her arms on her chest and raised her chin up in a 'I'm ready-to-fight' move, "Artemus can do that too, right?"

Copying the woman's gesture, Jim replied, "Right, but he won't be able to move fast if needed – and could put the President's life in danger." He looked at Artie, and added, "No offense."

Bowing his head slightly in understanding, Artie said, "None taken, you're right Jim. The safety of the President comes first. I will go shopping for some groceries."

Her eyes turning green in displeasure, Moira moved protectively and unconsciously in front of Artemus. "It is out of the question for Artie to walk to the shops, let alone ride a horse…"

Jim nodded. "Of course. I'm going to send the fireman to rent a vehicle…" 'Boy! her eyes are even more beautiful, if possible, when she's angry!' He thought feeling his heart pound in his chest with desire.

Moving into Jim's personal space, in attack mode, Moira said, "Does Magnus here have a special ability to go shopping?"

Frowning, puzzled, Jim said, "No."

Moira continued, "Then I have a better idea. The fireman is going to go grocery shopping and Artemus will stay here with me, warm and safe."

Feeling sheepish Jim nodded. "It's a good idea, I didn't think about it."

Moira looked at Artemus and said, "I know you have liked shopping since you were a boy because it allows you to interact and chat with people, discover new products and share tips and recipes with other customers, but sometimes you have to delegate – like now. Taking a break from the routine is good from time to time you know. It avoids boredom of repetition." She paused and looked at Jim eye to eye. "And you are not in the service of your partner."

Embarrassed Artie said, "You're wrong, Moira. I'm not at Jim's service… even if sometimes I feel like I'm his own personal Chef. But I love it."

Moira patted Artemus's arm. "I know, It's not a reproach I'm making you, Artemus but giving counsel." Then she looked at Jim eye to eye and then she continued, "Even though Jim here probably better knows the difference between two types of bullets rather than two types of apples, he can go shopping if you give him a list and explain to him what you want, right Jim?"

Keeping a neutral face, Jim nodded. "Of course."

Moira smiled. "Good!" She pushed the two men into the narrow walkway. "Now I need to take a bath. See you later." And she closed the door – and locked it.

Grinning from one ear to the other, Artie said, "She's pretty straightforward isn't she? That's what I like most about her."

Leaning against the wooden wall Jim nodded. "She's unique! This is the first time I've met someone like her ... I am at the same time surprised, amazed and admiring." He paused, his eyes sparkling with love. "And she's so beautiful… her eyes are incredible!"

Heading toward the door of his compartment, Artemus said, "Pardon me if I'm blunt, but I do this for your own good. She's not interested in you, Jim. You don't look like a Swede."

Puzzled, Jim frowned, "What?"

Entering his private room, followed closely by his partner, Artemus explained, "I love you as a brother Jim, and that's why I don't want you to suffer. Moira is not attracted to you, and won't be, ever. You're not her type. She loves big, blond men with blue eyes, like Swedes."

Disappointed and unhappy Jim tightened his lips. "You're sure?" He asked.

Removing the towel tied around his waist and then dropping it on his bed, Artie replied, "Yes I'm sure. She told me. I'm sorry, Jim." Naked, he sat on the edge of the mattress and propped his encased leg up on the narrow bed. He couldn't help but scratch his cast. "My leg itches! I really look forward to removing it! The first thing I'm going to do when the cast comes off will be to give my leg a good scratching. You'll cut it in half at the end of the week, without cutting my leg. I count on you."

His mind focused on what Artie had revealed to him Jim nodded absently. "Yes, of course," he said. "See you later."

He left the room, shoulders slumped.

WWW

_Later_

Propped against pillows on the couch with his leg wrapped in a cast settled on the coffee table, Artemus glanced at Jim.

His partner was sitting at the dining table, reading the newspaper, a cup of coffee in front of him. He had said nothing for the last hour. He was brooding.

Looking at Moira sitting crossed-legged at his side, feeling bad, he whispered, "Maybe I shouldn't have told him he had no chance to seduce you. He's in love with you. I had never seen that before. He never fell in love with a woman. If you had told him yourself he would have been heartbroken…"

Moira moved her white rook on the chessboard easily forcing Artemus's black king to checkmate on the edge of the board. "Checkmate!" She announced with a broad smile.

Lowering his eyes to the chessboard Artie sighed in defeat. "Again. I think I'm going to stop playing against you, Moira."

President Grant sitting at the work table, paused his reading of his two best agents latest report and said, "Moira is unbeatable at chess, I should have warned you."

Moira looked at Jim, hiding behind the Washington Gazette hen back at her best friend. "And he's not heartbroken now? It was done with good intention, but it didn't work," she said, not lowering her voice.

Feeling guilty now Artemus said, in a low voice, "I know. If only I could help him somehow…I don't like to see him suffer."

Moira stood and headed toward Jim. She grabbed his newspaper and dropped it to the floor. Then she pulled up a very surprised Jim West and leaning in she kissed him on the lips. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, I should have told you myself, please forgive me," She said. She smiled and then she added, "I hope you feel better now," before kissing his nose.

Ignoring Grant's and Artemus's stunned gazes focused on them, Jim and Moira stayed in that position for a while, eye to eye, smiling at each other.

Still smiling, Jim cupped Moira's face in his hands, thumbs stroking her temples. "Yes, much better, and you don't need to apologize. You're an incredible woman, you know that?"

She nodded. "I know. People say that to me all the time. And speaking of time… I'm sure it's the first time ever a woman has not fallen enamored into your arms.

His smile broadening, Jim nodded and replied, "Yes. There is a first time for everything… But I hope this first time will be the last."

Moira's fingers tangled in Jim's hair. "Do you want to be my second-best friend? The first place is already taken by Artemus."

They both glanced at Artie who said, "And I'm keeping it."

Chuckling Jim put his hands in Moira's hair, then he gently pulled her face toward his and softly kissed her on the forehead.

Grant smiled broadly. "I think the answer is yes," he said.

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_Later_

Looking at all the bags filled with food supplies which were sitting on the work table, coffee table and couches, President Grant said, "I know now where a large part of the budget I allow you goes."

Pointing an accusing finger at Jim, Artemus said, "He's the one who eats the most Sir – and never gain weight. I find it totally unfair." Then he chuckled.

Ulysses S. Grant sighed moving his hand to his rounded stomach. "I know the problem," and then he cleared his throat. "Well, my escort will be here soon. I'd like to stay for lunch and share it with you, but I have a country to run and I have to go back to the White House."

Moira smiled. "It was a pleasure to share some time with you, Sir, and I hope to see you again after finding and capturing Bigfoot."

Grant smiled. "I'm sure you will. Nothing and no one resists you, Moira." There was a knock at the door and Artie opened it – revealing a Major in uniform.

The officer saluted. "I'm Major Bradford. I'm commanding the President's escort." He said and saluted again when he saw the POTUS moving toward him. "Everything's ready Mr. President. Your coach is next to the platform and the escort standing by."

Placing his broad-brimmed hat on his head, Grant said, "Very well Major." Then he joined the other man on the rear platform. He turned around and glanced at Jim, Artie and Moira grouped together. "Be careful – and Godspeed." Then he left.

Closing the door as new snowflakes were falling from the sky, Jim said, "Let's get out of here before being stuck by the snow again!"

Ten minutes later the Wanderer had left the railroad yard and was on its way to the region of Mount St. Helens in Washington Territory.

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_The next day, in the evening_

Looking down at his leg, now freed from the cast, Artie said, "I almost forgot what it looked like - and it's still a little swollen – and it's dirty and smelly."

Moira stepped over the cut in-half cast lying on the floor and sat on the bed. "And still bruised where the bone broke," she noticed. "You should have waited until the end of the week to remove you cast, there's no way to tell whether or not the broken bone is healed enough to stand on."

Rubbing his hairy leg, Artemus shook his head. "I know, but I couldn't bear it anymore, and I'm healed. Two more days wouldn't have changed anything." He moved to the side of the bed, bending his now healed leg and scratched his skin where it itched. He heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, this is so good!"

He stood then, slowly, carefully, wobbling slightly.

Moira stood in a flash and grabbed Artie's arm, helping him balance himself out. "You should use your crutch again to walk, or a cane. Do you have one?"

Nodding, Artie replied, "Yes I have, I have several canes, a sword-cane, a rifle-cane, a cane-revolver and a basic cane." Then he walked steadily from one end of the room to the other. "But I don't need it. I'm fine, see?" and he smiled in both relief and pleasure.

Pointing at the bed, Moira said, "Sit down here and let me see your leg – and I don't care if it's dirty and smells bad. I've seen worse. Far worse."

Complying reluctantly Artie said, "What do you want to do?" And he gasped in surprise when Moira started massaging it energetically.

Moira said, "I have magic hands and I give fabulous massages, you'll see. That will help the blood to flow into your leg." And she pressed firmly and carefully at the muscles.

Embarrassed to see Moira rub his grimy leg up and down, blushing, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Stop! Let me take a shower before – and alone!"

Using her free hand Moira prodded Artie's leg around the fading bruise. "Does it hurt?" and Artemus shook his head. "Good!"

She finally noticed his unusual dark gray underwear – they were elastic-waisted trunks with a snap, a fly in front with two buttons – and she asked, "Another invention?"

Standing again, Artie replied, "Yes, as my cast went up to the thigh I couldn't wear regular underwear, they were too tight – and I wasn't going to spend several weeks sans-underwear, so I found this solution." He stretched and added, "I designed underwear with an elastic wide waistband to fit the waist; and be comfortable, which can be opened up completely, thanks to the snap and the buttons on the fly. I made it in a loosely fitting fabric so that I could pull it over my cast."

She chuckled softly. "You always have lots of good ideas, Magnus, I admire you." She patted his knee. "Go to the bathroom now, you stink"

Tbc.


	3. Act Two

**THE NIGHT OF BIGFOOT**

**By Andamogirl**

WWW

**ACT TWO**

_A week later_

_at the edge of a thick forest_

The snow crunched under Jim's, Artemus's and Moira's feet and they approached the edge of deep red cedar trees forest where the Bigfoot had been spotted.

Looking behind him at the Wanderer stopped three miles away in the middle of the railroad track between two snow slides, Artie said, his breath forming clouds of white smoke in the cold air, "You know we should have taken the horses instead of walking in all that snow…" And he looked at his knees half-buried in powdery snow. "is not going to be easy, and that could be very dangerous, because in the case of a bear or wolf attack, or both, the snow would slow down our movements, as will the cold. On horseback we would have a better chance of getting away with it…"

Hit by a snowball in his face, Artemus removed the icy snowflakes from his face and glared at Moira who grinned and said, "Magnus, you yellow belly!"

Feeling offended, Artemus frowned, raised his chin defiantly and said, "Me? Have we met before? No, I'm just wary. I have been attacked by bears and wolves many times and I almost died each time."

Moira stroked her childhood friend's cheek to be forgiven. "I'm sorry. I forgot about that. I wanted make fun of you, but it didn't work."

In response Artie kissed Moira's temple. "You're forgiven." Then looking again at the stranded train, he said, "We were lucky not ending up under an avalanche, but it will take a few days though to remove all the snow on each side of the track."

Moira nodded and glanced at the snow-filled forest which was still and silent. "You now finding snow here is very rare. In this region the winters are usually cold and rain-drenched."

Pointing at the tall trees covered with heavy snow, Jim said, "You're right but the horses couldn't make their way through that dense forest."

Moira nodded. "Jim is right." She glanced at her companions carrying like her a backpack filled with the necessary equipment to camp in the cold for several days, food supplies and ropes and chains to restrain the Sasquatch. Then she added, "Let's go! We have Big Foot to find – and capture. We'll be famous after that!" And she moved forward.

Exchanging a complicit look the two men saluted and both said, "Yes Ma'am!" And they let Moira take the lead and trudged along in her wake.

Pausing for a few seconds, Artie looked up at the tall fir trees, piled with snow, looming menacingly around them in the fading light.

His shoulders tensed and he shivered, but not from cold. "I don't like this place," he said feeling his sixth sense tingling, giving him goosebumps.

He sighed, breath misting in the frigid air. "Let's move old man," he said.

He looked up to the sky and just barely noticed the sun, through the ominous dark clouds gathering overhead getting dark very fast, threatening snow and loads of it.

He joined the others and they entered the dark, snow-heavy forest.

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_Two hours later_

The air had gotten progressively colder as they walked through the immense red cedar trees and then it's started snowing.

Moira looked up at the sky, watching the snowfall getting heavier by the minute. "We should find a place to set up the tent," she said.

A few minutes later they were caught in a blizzard.

The snow storm was becoming more ferocious with every step. The snow was coming down heavier now and visibility was getting worse. They couldn't see five feet in front of them.

Moira shifted her scarf trying to shield her abused cheeks from the icy cutting wind and said, "We should stop here and set up the tent!" She looked around her squinting through the flurry of white as the snow grew thicker, blowing around them on harsh blisteringly cold winds and spotted a group of tall trees forming a C-shape. "Here! There's enough room for the tent."

In a matter of minutes, Jim and Artie set up the tent with their gloved hands which were growing numb while Moira watched them.

The temperature was plummeting. It was below freezing now. Everything looked the same around them. Everything was white.

Once inside the tent, flap closely tied, Jim unwrapped his scarf and pulled off his hat and gloves – Artie copying him, then he pulled out a kerosene lamp from his backpack, lighting it with a match.

The sky was rapidly darkening outside.

Then he vigorously rubbed his hands over his arms to try and warm himself. "Artie, you should unpack the sleeping bags."

Pulling out a thick red blanket from his own backpack Artie said, "I have to place this on the ground, first." He paused and explained to Moira, "It's a special blanket. It is waterproof, water repellent and it's filled with goose down which retains heat better. We won't be cold when sitting on it and it's going to provide some cushioning too." Then he started covering the icy and snowy floor with it to providing insulation against the humidity and cold.

Moira smiled. "Another invention of yours?" She asked as her teeth chattered, raising her voice. The wind howled outside.

Jim settled the lantern over in the far corner of the tent.

Opening his backpack wider, Artie replied, "Yes, and I invented this too… it's a compact sleeping bag made like my special blanket." And he pulled out a blanket folded in half, rolled up, and bound with leather straps. He unfolded it and Moira could see that the 'sleeping bag' had an 'Automatic, Continuous Clothing Closure' on each side which enabled users to get into the bag and then close it up.

She was impressed. "It's a great idea! I could use this sleeping bag when I'm exploring cold regions! Did you bring one for Jim and me too?"

Jim pulled out two sleeping bags from his backpack. "Artemus always thinks of everything." And he gave one to Moira.

Removing his thick coat and boots, Artie then didn't hesitate to take his damp pants off but kept on the bottom part of his wooly two-piece thermal underwear which was still dry. He said, "Let's get inside our sleeping bags before we freeze to death," and he did just that.

Imitating Artie, Jim fixated closed the flaps of the small tent while Moira removed her damp pants – but Artie didn't, his curiosity taking over from propriety.

He had never seen such a feminine undergarment. Moira was wearing a thick close-fitting red wool leg covering from her waist to her toes –the top of the waist was of strong elastic.

Moira smiled. "Interested by my legwear?" She asked. "I invent things too, like these winter leg coverings – hiding my short underwear. I designed them myself. I had the work done by a weaver in the kingdom of Nepal before leaving for the Himalayas. I call this kind of cloth garment tights. They sheath the body from waist to toewith a tight fit, hence the name. Then she slid into the thick cocoon. She added, "And I'm wearing another invention of mine, to go along with the 'tights'. It's a breast support made in cotton-lined wool for comfort. It's covering the top of my body as we speak. It's sleeveless and it's made in one piece." Seeing that Artie was intrigued, she whispered, "I will show you later…" And Artemus blushed in embarrassment. "Goodbye rigid corsets that trap the body and reduce movement."

Soon they were warm thanks to their body heat filling the cold air with soft puffs of breath.

Listening to the he hellish blizzard outside, they stayed immobile and quiet for a moment, happy and relieved to be safe.

Moira turned toward Artemus lying to her right side, shuffled around a bit, getting into a comfortable position and said, "It's really a great invention, Magnus. Without those sleeping bags we would have died of exposure," and then she buried her face in the crook of Artie's neck. "Thanks."

Lying side by side, they stayed immobile and silent for a while, then when it was warmer inside the tent, they sat on the thick blanket – the sleeping bags covering their legs.

Pulling out a bottle of whiskey and three tin mugs, Artie said, "Let's warm up!" and then he poured the liquor into them.

Retrieving the canned sardines with olive oil from his backpack and pieces of bread wrapped in a towel, and three knives, Jim said, "Let's eat something."

Soon after Jim, Artie and Moira were wolfing down sardine sandwiches. Then for dessert they ate canned peaches and big chocolate cookies.

Wiping the knives in a tea towel, Jim said, "I miss coffee, but with this blizzard outside, making coffee is impossible."

Moira pulled out a deck of cards from her backpack and a bag of peanuts. "Let's play poker. As I didn't find any chips, I took a bag of peanuts from the galley." She tapped the bag of peanuts and then added, "I am unbeatable at poker, all this will soon be mine." She shuffled the deck of cards in her lap then handed them and the peanuts out. "By the way, why did you have a bag of peanuts in the galley?"

Artie smiled. "It was for Ackbar, a sacred baby white elephant – well, he wasn't sacred at all. Long story. I tried to train Ackbar to catch peanuts without much luck…"

Moira smiled. "I hope to know the rest of that story one day."

Smirking, Artemus took his cards, glanced at them then at his childhood best friend then he said, "I will beat you. Trust me."

A couple of hours later, after Jim and Artie had lost a huge amount of peanuts to Moira and grabbing the deck of cards, the older man huffed and said, "I can't beat you."

Moira grinned. "Told you so."

Exhausted from the excursion out into the bone-chillingly cold blizzard - the storm still raging outside – deep weariness took hold as they fought to keep their eyes open.

Moira was the first to slide in her sleeping bag and she pulled the edge up to her chin. She let her eyes drift shut saying, "Night boys," and promptly fell asleep.

Smiling, Artie ran a gentle finger down Moira's cheek, "Good night, Moira," then he unholstered his revolver settling it on his lap with a strong feeling that something unpleasant was about to happen.

Seeing that his partner looked preoccupied he asked, "Do you have a premonition?" and he took his own gun in his hand.

Checking the full chamber filled with six bullets, Artie replied, "Yes, I felt uncomfortable before entering this forest and my intuition never deceives me."

Both men looked warily at the flap of the tent – cocking the hammers of their Colts. Then Jim said, "I'll take the first shift. I'll wake you up in two hours, and then we'll alternate the shifts until dawn."

Still frowning in worry, Artie nodded. "Okay." Then he moved onto his back and pulled his sleeping bag up to his shoulders.

But he kept his gun, ready to fire, in his hand.

Outside, the wind howled and lashed snow in every direction around the surrounding trees. And the temperature in the tent dropped a significant amount.

WWW

_In the morning_

Nothing happened that night. But when Jim untied the tent flap he was shocked to see that snow had piled up so high it blocked the fabric door.

Moira raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Woah! The tent is under snow… and the blizzard is still active outside," she said. "It reminds me of my last stay in the Himalayas."

Looking down at her side she gently nudged her best friend awake. "Wake up Artemus!" But Artie ignored her and turned away from her with a grunt.

Having closed the flap of the tent, Jim said, "Be careful, Moira. He has his gun in his hand and he's ready to shoot. He didn't sleep much last night, let him wake up by himself, it's more safer."

Moira frowned intrigued. "Shoot at what?"

Glancing at Artie, now snoring lightly, Jim replied, "He's sensing that something bad is going to happen, and I trust in his intuition. So we spent the night taking turns in case something happened – but fortunately nothing happened." Shivering he put his thick coat on and he pulled on thick hiking boots. He sighed. "No coffee this morning either."

Suddenly a howling gust of wind awoke Artemus from his peaceful slumber. He propped himself on one elbow and surfaced, blinking sleep away.

He rubbed his left hand over his face while holding his Colt with the right one. He smiled at his companions and said, "Morning," his voice thick with sleep, shivering at the cold. "Boy! it's cold in here… and there's still a snowstorm outside."

Moira kissed Artie's stubbled cheek. "Good morning Magnus," she said, and then she gathered her coat, scarf and boots. "We are snowed in." She dressed rapidly to protect herself from the cold and then she added, "I need to go outside. I have to pee."

Jim untied the flap of the tent again and then began digging a passage through the piled snow so they could go outside.

Once it was done, gusts of wild winds and heavy snow engulfed the tent and Moira hurried to leave it. Jim followed her – to pee too and to protect her.

Staying inside, Artemus closed the entrance of the tent and started pulling out their frugal breakfast from his backpack: brioche and chocolate bars. That's all.

He had to keep what was left of their cooked food supplies. He hadn't packed that much food in the first place because he had planned to cook things for them. He had canned fish and meat, different kind of beans and peas, rice, lentils – but with the blizzard it was impossible to pick up wood, make a fire and boil water (snow). He couldn't even make coffee! He thought.

Feeling his own bladder pressing him to go outside too, he dressed in his warm clothes and left the tent in his turn, closing the flap behind him.

He took a few steps forward, snow reaching his thighs, the blizzard blowing directly into his face biting it. He couldn't see anything and his eyes stung.

Snowflakes swirled madly in the howling blizzard and the surrounding trees swayed and creaked. "Jim? Moira?" He called out. He shivered, and clutched his arms to his chest. His hands were shaking and his fingers were starting to feel numb. "I hate the cold," he muttered.

He ducked his head a little and looked around him searching for footprints, but Jim and Moira's footprints, which had gone quite deep were swiftly being covered. "Jim? Moira?"

He called out again, louder. No response. His heart racing, now very anxious because they could have got lost in the blizzard, he decided, his stomach churning, to go back to the tent to take the lantern. As the sky was dark with gray clouds, they would see it.

He turned back – barely seeing the tent which was only a few feet from him and looked more like an igloo now, he realized.

He gritted his chattering teeth against the onslaught of the storm which was becoming more ferocious with every step – plus his leg tingled and burned – it hurt.

The temperature was dropping and he felt like ice. He couldn't feel his face or his hands anymore, but he had to keep moving.

He must find Jim and Moira. He wouldn't let them die out here in the cold.

He was staggering through the biting cold winds and flurries of snow when he saw something darker and hazy around the edges, behind the curtain of falling snow – a silhouette. "Jim?" He saw the 'shadow' move in his direction and his teeth chattering, he asked, "J-Jim w-where is M-Moira?"

He abruptly stopped when he realized that the dark-brown silhouette heading toward him was very large and very tall and muscular – with long, shaggy, light-brown hair.

It wasn't James West.

He stared at Bigfoot in shock and disbelief. Then he took a step backward and stumbled, "I don't believe it." he whispered, in awe.

He whispered, "Bigfoot!" then he felt the hair on the back of his neck raise as the creature was headed toward him at top speed, barreling through the snow.

He reached down to his right side to take his out gun but he didn't have it.

He cursed and before he could react, the creature hit him with its clawed paw/hand – in the middle of his chest, propelling him backward into the thick layers of iced snow.

Grimacing in pain, he had time to see Bigfoot's face close to his, his yellowish eyes, his sharp teeth and smell his awful rotten breath before losing consciousness.

Bigfoot growled, grabbed the unconscious human by his arm and dragged him through the snow, through the tall trees.

WWW

_Later_

_In a log cabin _

Moira gently tapped Artemus's cheeks. "Wake up, Artemus!" Then she smiled when she saw her best friend's eyes fluttering open.

Opening his eyes, Artie blinked wearily at the ceiling for a few seconds then turning his head to the right he saw Moira's smiling face close to his. "Hi…" He said before grimacing in pain. His chest hurt. Hurt where Bigfoot had hit him, he remembered. "I saw Bigfoot!" he announced, wincing at a couple of bruised ribs. "He hit me and I passed out."

Sitting on the other side of the bed, Jim said, "He hit us too – and we lost consciousness. We'll have some nice bruises on our chests – but nothing's broken."

Moving into a sitting position - the bed creaking - with both Jim's and Moira's help, Artie glanced around him and realized that he was lying on a double bed in a large room with a table, two chairs and two stools and a black, pot-bellied stove equipped with a plate on the top for cooking. The red cedar tree log cabin was dusty and musty-smelling. Through a lone, small window he could see the weak light and the snow which was falling thick and fast outside. There was a big rounded stone-build fireplace and flames brought gentle warmth to the space. There was a door leading to another room he guessed was the bathroom / toilet. There was a sink with a cupboard under it and empty shelves and an axe was hanging next to the door. "Where are we? How did I get here?"

Moira took Artie's hand in hers soothingly. "Jim and I got lost in the blizzard. We were close to hypothermia when Bigfoot appeared in front of us – and he hit us to neutralize us, so he could easily bring us here. He did the same thing to you. He saved our lives and left. We're in a one-room cabin, living area / kitchen and a fireplace, combined with a separate washroom and toilet. It's probably a refuge for hunters in bad weather, and only used during the hunting season, and we're lucky it's in good shape, so we are not cold and sheltered from the blizzard." she explained.

Rubbing his bruised chest, Artemus leaned against the bedhead. "I'm surprised. I thought he would kill us instead and then eat us."

Moira shook her head. "There are lots of legends about Bigfoot and we don't know exactly what it eats. But not humans it would seem."

Sitting on the side of the bed, beside Moira Artie said, "Or it wasn't hungry and it brought us here – to this log cabin used as food-storage to be able to eat us later. He knows that we can't escape it – especially with a blizzard outside. We're stuck."

Moira chuckled. "You always see the worst in things, Magnus. It helped us, it saved our lives. We would be dead frozen to death without its help."

Frowning, a bit vexed, Artemus replied, "No, I don't always see the worst in things. I am someone realistic and pragmatic. Thinking that way has saved my life, and it saved Jim's life many times too." He ran fingers through his messy hair; stood and winced as his leg hurt, but it was bearable. "He brought us here, okay, he saved us, okay, but I suppose he was careful not to bring our revolvers here?"

Jim shook his head. "No. But it brought our other things, our backpacks, sleeping bags and even you're your special warm blanket. Doing that proves it's intelligent."

Moira nodded. "Despite the fact that it looks like an upright-walking, ape-like being, yes it is and this is new information!" She paused and then added, "I checked the backpacks. We have enough food to stay here in forced confinement for several days until this storm blows over. We have water – I mean melted snow – firewood piled outside in a shed. We can cook, eat and drink. I propose that we stay here until the blizzard disappears – it could last two or three days. It's usual here. And I'm certain that we'll be able to find things with which to occupy ourselves in the meantime. We could start with a poker game."

Shaking his head, Artie said, "Let's start to clean up this place. I don't want to share my room with spiders the size of a crab!" He pointed at an enormous black spider watching them from a corner of the ceiling. "Then I'll prepare something to eat – I'm hungry." And his stomach growled its agreement with that.

Moira stood in her turn, "I'm going to put some snow into a pot – or something I can find in the cupboard and make boil it."

Standing too Jim said, "I'm going to fetch some wood from the shed to feed the fire – because we need to keep it alive. It's almost 0° Fahrenheit outside!"

He put his coat on, placed his hat on his head, wrapped his neck in his scarf, hid his hand in his gloves and opened the door – finding thick white powder piling up against it – reaching his chest and above a rectangle of near-darkness, and more large flakes were dropping every second. It was past midday and it looked like it was twilight. "Ok, it's not going to be easy," he said. "Let's go!"

Frowning in concern, Artie said, "Be careful!"

Smiling reassuringly, Jim replied, "I will mom, don't worry," and then he tucked his already frozen chin into his collar and started to dig a passage in the wall of fresh snow with his hands, his breaths coming in small puffs of air as they hit the cold.

A few minutes later he was piling logs onto the fireplace.

WWW

_Later_

His stomach full of beans, canned tuna and a couple of cookies accompanied with a mug of coffee – Artie was lying on his sleeping bag, in front of the fireplace listening to the snowstorm raging outside. The blizzard was still howling, gusting hard enough to rattle the window covered with ice. It was the beginning of the afternoon, but it was so dark outside.

His eyes closed, Artemus was drifting off to sleep like a lazy, well-fed cat when Moira, holding a mug of coffee sat down on Jim's unoccupied sleeping bag and said, "Jim's is doing the dishes and he's very talented." She smirked then she took a sip of her hot beverage.

Looking up at Moira who was smirking, Artemus said, "It works like that in the Wanderer, you know, I cook, make coffee and he washes the dishes and put them in the dresser."

She stared at the fire sparking and cracking loudly for a few seconds letting the warmth seep through her. The main room was warm, if not comfy and lit by the soft orange glow of the fire. Then she said, "You know I was thinking about something while we were eating…"

Closing his eyes again, Artemus murmured, his voice low and thickening with coming sleep, "That's why you were silent. Let me guess, you don't want to capture Bigfoot anymore. Am I right? I think it's the right thing to do."

She looked at Artie and frowned falsely upset. "I didn't know you could read minds." She sighed. "Yes, you're right. Bigfoot saved my life – it saved our lives. And it's an intelligent being, not a mere brainless monster. How could I agree to put it in a cage after that?"

Placing his hand on Moira's knee, Artemus smiled. "Others than you wouldn't have that scruple. All for glory, the rest doesn't matter. You always had a big heart, Moira. I'm very proud of you." Then he slowly bent his right leg and rubbed it where it hurt. He winced.

Moira furrowed her brow in worry. "Does your leg hurt?" She asked, lowering it to the sleeping bag and rubbing it too.

Reopening his eyes half mast, Artemus scrubbed a hand over his face and said, "Let's say that trudging for miles through the snow doesn't facilitate convalescence. But I'm not complaining. I chose to accompany you. I knew it wouldn't be a walk in the park. Don't worry about me. The pain is bearable." And he stretched his leg and flexed his toes covered with a thick wool sock.

He yawned. He was so very, very tired.

Moira nodded. "You should take the bed, I can sleep on the floor."

Shaking his head, slowly, Artie said, "I would be a jerk if I accepted and I am not, I am a well-bred and gallant man. The bed is yours."

She lay down on the sleeping bag beside Artemus and then said, "I'm fine here," and then she took his hand in hers. Then she moved closer to Artie, snuggling against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember when we were stargazing on summer nights? You could point out stars and constellations in the night sky and name each of them."

Rubbing his tired eyes, Artie nodded. "Yes, I remember," he slurred fighting to stay awake. "I remember everything, like it was yesterday, the warm air; the singing crickets and singing frogs, the gentle sound of the Mississippi river… You and me watching the stars shining in the blackness of the night, lying on the rocks…" He yawned and added, "There was a meteor shower one night… and it was awesome. We renamed all the stars, planets and constellations, you remember?"

She took Artie's hand in hers. "Yes, I remember and I haven't stargazed in a long time… Maybe we could do that again when all this is over?"

Closing his eyes again – because resistance against sleep was futile – Artie murmured his voice low and tired., 'I'd love to, but not in the middle of winter time. We'll have to wait until summer time… and go back home…" Then he relaxed in sleep and went limp.

Kissing Artemus's forehead, Moira said, "Have a nice nap, Magnus," then she moved into a cross-legged siting position, glancing up at Jim. The other man was drying his wet hands off with a cloth. His eyes narrowed, he looked doubtful. "I was sincere about Bigfoot," she affirmed.

Sitting on a rickety chair, Jim said, "Something tells me that you didn't tell the truth. You still want to capture Bigfoot."

Silence – broken only by the full-scale blizzard and the crackle of the fire.

Moira avoided Jim's piercing gaze and looked at a sleeping Artemus, face relaxed and peaceful, breathing even and quiet. "I would never lie to him," she said. "I'm not lying, believe me."

Dropping the cloth on the old table, Jim said, "You know, I've heard lots of people lie in my life and almost all of them claimed they were not lying, while they were lying, and all ended their sentences ended with 'I'm not lying, believe me'."

Moira glared at Jim. "You don't trust me," she said, hands on her hips.

Standing Jim replied, "No. And I'm going to tell you why you lied to Artemus. After failing to capture the Yeti and its international resounding news, you need to capture Bigfoot to restore your reputation as great explorer and scientist – to be able to participate in an expedition again. And not to mention the fact that you can sell it to a freak show and earn a fortune, and get a percentage of the revenue…" He ignored Moira's black look and said, "We need more wood for the fireplace," and then he headed toward the coat peg.

Once Jim had and stepped out into the wild, the bitterly cold winter air loaded with big snowflakes sending chills through her entire body, Moira stood and padded toward the corner of the room where she had left her backpack.

She opened it and from under her clothes she pulled out Artemus's compressed gas tranquilizer gun and a box of powerful sleeping drug-filled darts with tailpieces of different colors - corresponding to the power of the sedative contained and therefore to its duration of action. Although she had guessed that, she didn't know the sedative dosage contained in each of the darts, and of course she could not question Artemus about it without arousing his suspicions. He was particularly insightful, she thought.

She smiled proudly. She had stolen them without Artemus noticing it - after taking clothes and toiletries from her house, and getting back on the train and hiding it there. "I hope that luck will be with me and that I will use the dart containing the most sedative'.

She placed the gun and the box back in place thinking that Jim was right. He knew. But she didn't know what he would do, let her capture Bigfoot? Or to prevent it to please Artemus who didn't want Bigfoot being captured after what he did for them? He would side with his partner, of course, she thought.

She ran a hand in the side pocket where – under a few socks she had hidden two pairs of manacles – she had stolen in Artie's lab as well.

She would need them to restrain the two men.

She glanced at Artie now snoring lightly and told him, "I'm sorry Artemus, but neither you nor Jim will stop me. Bigfoot will be mine - and if for that I must get rid of you, I will do it, without hesitation." And she started building plans to do just that.

She glanced at the window watching the snow swirling and dashing against the glass and said, "Let's wait for the blizzard to die first."

Tbc.


	4. Act Three

**THE NIGHT OF BIGFOOT**

**By Andamogirl**

WWW

**ACT THREE**

_Later_

Moving into a sitting position, Artemus yawned and stretched like an oversized cat, noticing that the room was dark, the fireplace being the only light source in the room.

The wind howled eerily outside.

He looked to his left and saw Moira lying on the bed, wrapped in her sleeping bag, sound asleep. He glanced to his right and saw Jim slid in his sleeping bag too – awake and staring at him and he smiled. "I slept throughout the afternoon and a part of the night too, right?"

Moving one arm under his head, the younger man said, "Right. It was a long nap, yes, but you needed it. How's your leg?"

Flexing his formerly broken leg, Artemus said, "The pain is dull, not gone. I think I'm gonna ask for some leave after that frozen adventure."

Smiling Jim nodded, "And I know where you want to spend those few days, at your mom's home, with Helena and Harry both pampering you."

Rubbing his bad leg, Artemus replied, "Of course. It's my haven. And I'm going to bring Moira with me. My mom and Harry will be very pleased to see her."

Sitting on his sleeping bag, Jim asked his best friend, "Do you want a cup of coffee? Even if I made it?' Then he stood.

Sending Jim a questioning look, Artie asked, "You want to talk to me, what is it?" And with Jim's help, he stood too.

Both Jim and Artie padded silently toward the pot-bellied stove where a coffee pot was warming by the slowly dying embers.

Taking a mug, Jim said in a low voice, "Yes, I want to talk to you," and he poured molasses-like coffee into the mug before offering it to Artemus.

In the bed Moira, her back to the two men, opened her eyes – all ears.

Closing his hand around his steaming mug, Artemus said, "You have your serious face, Jim. What is it you want to tell me?"

Pointing at a chair; Jim said, "Take a seat," and he took his place beside his best friend who had just complied. He sighed and said, "It's about Moira and Bigfoot." Then he told Artie about his conversation with Moira and he added, "I'm sorry."

Looking down at his hot coffee, Artie said, "Well, I'm not surprised, Jim. I knew there was a good possibility she couldn't resist the temptation. Bigfoot is out there…. and she wants to capture it." He looked at Moira and continued, "Trying to capture creatures like the Yeti or Bigfoot is her life's work – and she hates failure. I hope she won't find it. Bigfoot is an intelligent being and it saved us. I don't want to see it in a cage in a freak show – I hate those things."

Jim nodded. "I hate them too."

Artemus frowned realizing something. "And even if she does find it, she won't be able to capture it. She doesn't have my tranquilizer rifle and my darts." He took a sip and grimaced at the bitterness. "Gaah! It's awful this thing should be labeled as poison."

Still faking sleep Moira waited for what the two men would decide to do about Bigfoot… which would determine what she would do.

Placing his mug on the scratched and stained table Jim nodded. "Yes, but when the snow storm is over, she will look for them…"

Artie nodded. "Of course she will, she won't want to give up the idea of capturing Bigfoot, but she won't find them, it's impossible. She will look for them for a few hours and then she will eventually give up. There are feet of piled layers of snow outside and they probably covered the tent and hid it and we don't know where Bigfoot brought us. It could have walked miles to bring us here in safety, and to be sure we'll be safe he probably chose to bring us here because this log cabin is situated not far from a village where we could find help - help finding our train for example."

Frowning, puzzled Jim asked, "Then why bring us here instead of take us there?" He snapped his fingers and said, 'because it avoids people – who could try to capture it or kill it."

Artie nodded. "Exactly."

Jim swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "Then Moira won't capture Bigfoot." And he saw Artie shake his head. He smiled; pleased to know that. "Good!"

Smiling, Artie nodded. "Yes, you're right." He yawned widely and stood. "Thanks for what you call coffee…" And he smiled playfully. Then he shivered and a sudden wave of anxiety submerged him and his intuition sounded alarm bells in his head – again. His smile vanished from his face and he said, "Something bad is gonna happen, I know it…"

Furrowing his brow Jim said, "If only you could know what it is…"

Shaking his head Artie replied, "I'm a special agent of the Secret Service, not a seer. But it's not related to the Bigfoot, as it's not a threat. No, it's something else." He settled his mug next to Jim's. "We have to wait to know what it will be, unfortunately. Good night, Jim."

He headed back beside the fireplace. He slipped into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he was fast asleep.

Imitating his best friend, Jim said, "Good night Artie," and then he closed his eyes.

He was already sleeping when Moira turned around and watched the two men lying side by side in their sleeping bags. She murmured, "I won't let you stop me," and then she glanced at the window as the ragged and howling wind was rattling it.

WWW

_The next morning_

The storm had passed. The blizzard was gone but it was still snowing, though snowflakes were tiny and melting within minutes.

Smiling happily Jim said, "The tempest is gone!" Then, with snow at the level of his chest, he left the log cabin and moved away from it.

Suddenly Artemus and Moira still standing inside, with the door open, heard the other man let out a 'Hurrah!' and exchanged a puzzled glance.

Shortly after Jim came back inside and said, "I saw dozens of clouds of smoke above the trees on the left of the cabin. There's a village nearby. You were right, Artie, the Big foot brought us not far from a village. We'll find help there."

Happy to hear that, Artemus said, "Let's pack our things and head there before we get caught in the blizzard again, it may be a temporary lull."

Closing the door behind him Jim said, "You're like some bird of ill omen, Artemus." Then he glanced at Moira who was gathering her things.

He nodded to Artie signaling him he had to talk to her.

Sitting on the bed where Moira was rolling up her sleeping bag he said, "I'm sorry Moira, but with no tranquilizer rifle and its darts you won't be able to capture Bigfoot – and finding them is impossible. They are buried under several feet of snow – and we don't know where Bigfoot brought us. We could be miles away from where we camped. You will have to wait for another time."

She stopped and sighed, "I know." She tied her sleeping bag on each side with the cords provided for that and then opened her backpack.

Placing a soothing hand on Moira's, Artie repeated, "I'm sorry."

Moira pulled out the tranquilizer gun loaded with a dart filled with a powerful sedative and said, "I'm sorry too, Magnus," and then she pressed the trigger.

Hit in his ribs, Artie let out a cry of pain – and surprise and stood, looking at the tuff of small red feathers of the tailpiece of the dart protruding from the middle of his chest.

He croaked, "You didn't…" Then he removed the ballistic syringe loaded with a dose of tranquilizing solution - but he knew it was far too late. The full dose of the sedative had been administered and he would be sleepy in a matter of 30 seconds and unconscious in two minutes.

Ignoring him, Moira turned toward Jim. Before he could stop her, she reloaded in a flash and pointed the pressurized air gun toward the other agent.

She pressed the trigger. There was a second short hiss and the projectile punched into Jim's right shoulder, the needle piercing his skin and flesh as he was moving toward her.

It didn't stop Jim who yanked the dart with a red tailpiece out from his flesh and angrily propelled Moira against the closet wall - but the sedative was already running through his veins. "Artemus was right when he sensed that something would happen," he said, staggering.

Moira moved to the side, heading toward the door while watching Artie stumble and then collapse to his knees beside the bed, and she read disappointment and betrayal in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Artemus," she said. "I want Bigfoot – and I don't want anybody in my way. It's mine."

Shaking his head, Artie said, his voice trailing, "You won't find it, it's too dangerous to go out alone… Don't do that, please Moira."

Moira grinned sure of herself. "If I put myself in danger, it will help me, like it did the first time, and I will use the tranquilizer gun on it – keeping a safe distance. It won't hurt me."

It was Jim's turn to succumb to the powerful drug and he she swayed on his feet beside the bed before collapsing on it, progressively falling asleep.

Moira continued, "Once Bigfoot is neutralized, I'll come back here and you will help me to carry it to the train. I'm sure that you can build a large, solid sleigh for that. And, once in Washington with Bigfoot, I'll be famous! The whole world will know about my exploit! Everyone will want to see it! I don't know yet how I will display it to the public! But it will make me rich! I will be able to finance other expeditions and the greatest explorers will want to have the honor and the privilege to come with me looking for other creatures, unicorns, dragons ...But before this, I need time to find it – without you trying to stop me, that's why I'm going to restrain you, until I can find it. There's firewood piled here and enough canned food for a few days I'm sorry to do that but sometimes the end justifies the means."

But both Artemus and Jim were unconscious long before she ended her last sentence.

Moira grinned in victory. "Sleep well."

WWW

_Later_

In the tall, dense forest, three Chinook warriors who had spotted traces left by an elk in the thick snow, stopped and lifted their eyes toward the sky as a bald eagle flying above the cedar trees let out a series of high-pitched whistles.

It started making circles above the three men and they found this odd. Then when the bird of prey landed graciously at their feet they knew it meant something.

Eagles never did that. But this wasn't an ordinary eagle – it wanted to tell them something. It was a messenger, a messenger from the Great Spirit.

Looking up at the Indians the raptor released a 'kleek kik ik ik ik' call and then it took off, flying toward the snow-covered tops of the trees.

It made another circle in the air and then headed north – making new circles in the dark sky, waiting for the men to follow it.

WWW

_Eight hours later_

Slowly opening his eyes, Jim woke up with a blinding headache. He realized first that the blizzard was howling – then that he was in a dark log cabin, barely lit by a few embers in the fireplace.

He realized after that that he was lying on the bed in an awkward position: his right wrist was attached to his right ankle.

He glanced at his limbs and noticed that he was restrained with a pair of manacles – and then he frowned in confusion. "What the…" He slurred.

He heard a moan and rolled over on the bedspread and groaned, feeling nauseous. He looked down to the floor and then discovered his partner there, lying on the rug, eyes closed, limp; his right wrist and ankle manacled together.

He frowned trying to remember what had happened but his mind was foggy. He felt sluggish - and his mouth was pasty like after a good bender.

But he didn't remember being drunk – and how on E arth had he ended up manacled like that? And why? And who did it? When? For what reason?

He leaned toward Artie using his free hand, he reached out and shook his shoulder. "Wake up Artie!" He said, but the older man just moaned plaintively. Insisting, Jim nudged Artie's shoulder again. "Wake up!" And Artemus began to stir. His fingers twitched.

He squinted his eyes open and Jim's face swam into focus after a few blinks. "Waaaa?" he asked. He wanted to rub his face, but couldn't and he used his other hand to do that. He winced. "Headache…" Then he realized that he was restrained and pulled at the manacles. "What happened? I don't remember… my old noggin' full of tapioca… like… after… hangover."

His brain leaving his molasses-like state, Jim said, "We're restrained… more like sedative. We've been knocked-out."

Resting his head on the rug, Artie murmured, "Hmm… pretty heavily sedated… " Then pulled at his restraints further and winced. "Ow…"

Looking at his companion, his brow furrowed Jim said, "I can remember some things… The blizzard, Bigfoot, the cabin…" And suddenly everything came back to his mind. "Moira! She used a tranquilizer gun to knock us out, then she left to capture Bigfoot!"

Remembering what had happened too, Artemus said, "And she stole our manacles too to keep us stuck here… She's a very resourceful woman – and I'm mad at her! But I can't blame her. She did what she thought was necessary." Hearing the wind howling, he paled in worry. "She's outside! In the blizzard!"

Jim nodded. "Yes, she is. She used a dart with red tailpieces to knock us out, then she left what must have been 8 hours ago. She wanted to put her life in danger so that Bigfoot would be forced to save her again… so that she could use the tranquilizer darts on it."

Pulling at the manacles again, Artie said, "We need to find her! She could die of hypothermia before Bigfoot finds her!"

Shaking his head, Jim moved into an uncomfortable sitting position on the bed and said, "It's impossible. We're restrained, and…" He looked at the small window and finished his sentence. "Even if we could break free It's dark outside, it's probably the middle of the night and there's a hell of a deadly blizzard and we don't know where she is. We can't do anything."

Acknowledging that but upset, Artie asked, "Then what? We wait for her to come back? Or wait for Bigfoot to bring her here again? We don't know if she's still alive. She could be dead! We must do something, Jim! We have to help her." He managed to sit and pointed at his backpack sitting on the wooden floor next to the door. "I have a knife in it. I can unlock the manacles with it in ten seconds tops."

Looking at Artie's backpack, Jim said, "She probably took it. She's very intelligent – unless it's a concealed knife, of course."

Smiling at his best friend, Artie said, "How well you know me Jim… it's well hidden in the right shoulder strap, in the thick lining." Having said that, he dragged himself on his butt toward the door, which he reached five long minutes later.

He retrieved his well-hidden knife and used the tip to open the manacles. It took only ten seconds. "And voilà!" he said, proud of himself.

He unlocked Jim's manacles in no time and opened the door – and was greeted by darkness, swirls of snow and by the whistle of the demented wind. He blew hot air on his quickly freezing fingers in an attempt to keep them warm.

Moving beside Artie Jim said, "I know that you're worried about her, and me too, but we can't help Moira for now, we have to wait this out."

Closing the door before Jim and he were both chilled to the bone, Artie nodded sadly. "Yes, you're right. I hope she's okay." Then he headed toward the bed.

He slumped on it, shoulders hunched and rubbed his forehead. His headache was still here and even worse than before as he was stressed but he wasn't sleepy anymore.

Seeing that Artie could use a pick-me-up, Jim grabbed the bottle of whiskey he had left on a shelf and filled a mug.

He took his place beside his partner and placed the liquor-filled mug in his hand. "Moira is a fighter. I'm sure she's fine."

Nodding absently, Artie took a sip – and swallowed the whiskey which burn his throat. "I hope you're right," he said fighting welling tears.

He was ready to take a new sip of alcohol when he froze – and Jim too – hearing a loud cracking coming from outside.

Suddenly one of the tall lodge pine trees (Pinus contorta subsp. Latifolia) from the forest surrounding the log cabin toppled down with a deafening noise and crashed down in the middle of its roof.

Both Jim and Artie were caught under the remains of the roof and ceiling and under a compact mass of branches covered with snow and ice. The walls collapsed in their turn and the blizzard invaded what was left of the log cabin.

WWW

_Later_

_In the morning_

Regaining consciousness Jim immediately realized that something was wrong. He was lying on his side and gusts of ice-cold wind loaded with big snowflakes swirled around him.

He was frozen and was shivering.

He frowned in confusion. The last thing he remembered was… that loud cracking noise and then the roof of the log cabin had collapsed under – apparently – a toppled pine tree unrooted by the powerful blizzard.

He managed to disentangle himself from the branches on top of him and yelped as he felt his left arm hurt but it didn't stop him. "Artie?"

Moving to his knees, wincing, Jim looked around him amid the piles of branches which surrounded him. "Artie?" He called, his voice being lost in the howling blizzard again. Artemus was nowhere to be seen, but he had to be close. "A rtie?"

The younger man struggled into an upright position, winced then he looked at his injured limb and noticed that there was a long piece of wood embedded in his biceps. There was a lot of blood soaking the fabric of his shirt but, luckily, the pain was bearable and it wasn't a life-threatening injury, he thought as a series of violent shudders shook his frame. "Artie?"

Opening his eyes, Artemus realized that he was trapped under the branches of the tree that had collapsed on the log cabin.

He was lying on his back, his arms to either side of his body. His head was turned to the right and all he could see were branches of a pine tree. "Jim?" He called. No response. Only the loud whistles of the blizzard could be heard.

He used his hands to try to push himself up, but nearly passed out from the intense pain that surged through his right leg and he slumped back to the snow-covered floor, grimacing. He realized that something was pressing on his leg, pinning him there. "No, no, no, not again," he said thinking that his leg was broken, and he yelled Jim's name. He kept yelling it for a couple of minutes – and he was glad to see Jim kneel down beside him a few seconds later. "You heard me!" He said, his voice hoarse. "I need help. There's something on my leg, I think it's broken, again, and I can't move."

Frowning in worry Jim said, "Okay, don't move Artie, I'm going to go under those branches and move some of them to see what's wrong with your leg."

But before he did just that, he removed the wooden shard from his arm, cried out in pain as more blood poured from the wound.

Ignoring it, he crawled under the branches. He came back a few minutes later, his face grim. He found Artie shivering and struggling to stay awake.

He took his best friend's hand in his in a comforting gesture and said, his teeth clattering, "There's a big branch pressing on your leg. There's some blood… I don't know if it's broken or not."

Closing his eyes, feeling so very cold and tired Artie said, "Find the axe… and try not to cut my leg. I need it." Then he passed out, his breaths coming in small puffs of hot air.

Standing, Jim took a deep breath, trying not to panic. He glanced around him but could see only piles of debris and suddenly spotted a sleeping bag. He had to step over several branches and logs before reaching it. Then he turned around and moving close to Artie again, he covered his partner's frame with it. "I'm gonna find the axe now," he told him.

He found it – half an hour later – and knelt down beside his unresponsive best friend. Artemus hadn't regained consciousness.

He noticed that Artie's face was as pale as the snow piling around them. His features slack and his lips were turning blue with hypothermia. Fear gripping his heart, he shook Artie's shoulder and the older man stirred. "Wake up Artie! Stay awake!"

His eyes fluttering open, Artemus met a pair of concerned green eyes and slurred, "I don't think I can last much longer… go village… safe here… "I'm dying," he said quietly, resigned to his fate. The thought didn't scare him as much as he'd thought it would.

Then he lost consciousness again.

Raising the axe in the air, Jim said, "No, you're not dying, Artie!" Using the sharp tool, he hurried to cut the big branches in multiple pieces – avoiding his partner's trapped leg and then he finally released it. "I won't let you die." He added as a series of violent shudders shook his frame.

Then he cleared out everything around Artemus so he could have room.

He slowly and gently moved Artemus on top of the sleeping bag and pulled it toward the corner of the fallen log cabin – beside the stove. It had lost its top part in the collapsing of the roof but it was still hot, the fire still burning inside.

But it was getting colder and colder with every second passing by. He searched for a second sleeping bag and found one stuck between two logs.

He wrapped his frame in it as his body was losing its heat fast and sat beside Artemus but barely seeing it as the snowstorm was getting worse.

He couldn't feel the heat released by the stove.

Looking down at Artie, closely, he noticed with dread that his entire skin had taken on a faint bluish tint. The skin of his hands was already chapped from staying too long in the chilly air without gloves to cover them. He had particles of ice in his eyelashes and his eyebrows.

He wondered what to do: build a rudimentary sleigh to bring Artemus to the village or go to the village alone, quickly as possible and come back here with villagers to bring Artie to the village. Both solutions would take too much time and for Artie time was running out.

He rubbed his arms and legs to keep the blood flowing in his limbs and sighed. "W-ha-t w-oul-d y-you d-do?" He asked his best friend, his teeth chattering violently.

Usually Artemus had good ideas and found the right solution to any problems. But Artie didn't respond as he was unconscious.

He was panicking – not knowing what to do – when he saw three silhouettes moving in their direction through the blizzard.

He smiled thinking they were villagers – but he smile froze when he saw that the three people were actually Indians.

One of the m was holding a spear and the two others long knives. He stood, his legs feeling like pieces of ice as cold had invaded his limbs and he raised his fist. He knew he had no chance against three warriors, but he refused to die without fighting.

But the three Indians didn't move an inch – they stayed immobile in the tempest, snow swirling around them, looking at the white man.

Feeling drowsiness overcoming his senses, Jim slapped his face to stay awake, but he was so cold he couldn't feel anything.

He looked down at Artie covered with a thickening layer of freshly fallen snow and whispered, thinking he was dead, "I'm going to be with you soon," and he took a step toward the warriors, his clothes stiff with snow. He would die, but he would die fighting.

He took another step the snow up almost to his hips

He was shivering so hard he could barely walk in a straight line and, after a third step he stumbled. His legs weren't obeying him anymore. They were completely numbed. His vision blurred with fatigue, he collapsed in exhaustion to the icy ground, hitting the thick snow, face first.

He passed out.

Tbc.


	5. Act Four

**THE NIGHT OF BIGFOOT**

**By Andamogirl**

WWW

**ACT FOUR**

_Much later_

Hearing voices, Jim regained consciousness and the first thing he became aware of was that he was warm and comfortable – and that it was pouring down outside.

He frowned in confusion. Rain?

He opened his eyes, squinting for a moment as they adjusted to the dim light – and the next thing he realized was that he was looking at a red cedar roof above him – provided with roof slots that let fresh air in – and lines of raindrops too.

He realized that he was naked, wrapped in warm blankets and that he was lying on a soft mattress of what felt like comfortable furs.

He turned his head to the right and looking at the wall of red cedar-planks he saw fish baskets, harpoons, fishing nets, bows and arrows, spears and war clubs hanging there.

He knew then that he had been rescued by Indians – not by villagers - and remembered the three warriors standing in front of the crumpled log house.

He realized then that he felt no pain. He was fairly numb all over, and he had this strange pins and needles feeling in his lower back and down his legs.

He slowly turned his head to the other side and found he was next to a big crackling fire. He saw a group of three Indian women dressed in thick, wool robes, wearing their hair long and loose and wearing moccasins on their feet gathered around Artemus's prone form which was sprawled on what looked like a bear hide. He watched them strip him of his soaked clothes until he was naked. Then one of them – the oldest – took a blanket and started to rub his skin dry with it - warming him at the same time.

He felt tears welling up to his eyes and swallowed hard. Artie was dead from exposure to the cold. What the old woman was doing would achieve nothing.

Jim didn't fight tears as he was overcome with grief and he whispered, "Poor Artie…"

He tried to move – he wanted to hold Artemus's hand, cry over his dead body - but decided against it as soon as he felt pain – everywhere. The pins and needles started to feel like knives stabbing him. so he remained still. He would do that later.

Still watching his partner he noticed that Artie was… shivering violently – and realized… "He's still alive!" and he grinned, and his chapped lips bled.

The three women were now rubbing Artie's body with blankets bringing as much heat into the older man's now dry body as possible.

But they carefully avoided his right leg covered with dried blood – and it reminded Jim that he had been injured too.

He touched his left arm and felt a bandage around it. He was still groggy from the cold – but it would hurt a lot, later.

More than tired, he was drowsing feeling warm and safe, relieved that Artie was alive and in good hands, when someone shook him.

He re-opened his eyes, blinked twice and through blurred vision he saw an old man kneeling at his side and holding his arm. "Thanks for saving us," he slurred. "Lemme sleep…ti-red…"

But the Indian slapped his face – hard - and Jim's eyes flew open at the sudden pain, and he groaned loudly. He frowned. "What?"

The Indian asked, "Who is your friend? He has intriguing tattoo and scars."

Following the Indian's finger pointing at Artie he saw that his still unconscious and naked partner, was lying on his front, on top of a pile of blankets, and that the three women were staring both at the scars left by the eagle's talons in his back and at the large black eagle tattooed on his skin covering his lower back to be precise – with both awe and utter respect.

Doing his best to stay awake, Jim explained. "My companion's name is Artemus Gordon. A few years ago an eagle sent by the Great Spirit marked his flesh – signaling that the Great Spirit protects him, everywhere he goes."

Spotted Moose nodded. "I understand now why an eagle – which is a messenger of the Great Spirit – led three warriors who were hunting in the forest to the log cabin. The Great Spirit wanted them to find him and bring him here to safety."

Blinking rapidly to fight sleepiness Jim nodded. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. "Yes, exactly." He knew that all the Indians they had met had an upmost respect for Artemus for that. But he didn't know if the old man spoke English but he continued nonetheless. "Artemus is a Cheyenne warrior, has earned two eagle feathers for bravery on behalf of his band. While with his band he goes by the name of White Eagle. He's also an adoptive Comanche and the Comanche call him Strong Bear. Artemus is a Crow warrior too and the Crow call him Strong Bear too." Then he added. "My name is James West, I'm Artemus's blood brother." Just in case the local Indians might kill him – later - and not Artie.

The old man nodded and raised his hand covered with tribal tattoos in geometric designs. "Klahowya, greetings. My name is Spotted Moose. I'm a Chinook (pronounced "chih-nook") and the headman of that village. As you can see, I speak English, we trade a lot with white men, and I learned your language through contact with them over the years," he said.

Glancing at Artie who was now wrapped up in a bundle of warm blankets, burrito-like and still hearing the pouring rain hitting the roof, he added, "The blizzard's gone."

The old Chinook man nodded. "Yes, the snowstorm is gone. The weather changes fast here, near the coast. It's very rare when we have snow here, we usually have cold, rain-drenched winters." He looked at Artie whom the women had brought closer to the fire and he added, "I don't believe in luck, James, the Great Spirit wanted you here, for what purpose, I don't know. Only the Great Spirit knows." He stood and added, "Gray Bear will be here soon to take care of Artemus's leg wound. He will take good care of him, this is not the first time he has treated this kind of injury."

Realizing that Moira had completely slipped his mind, he said, "We have a friend out there in the forest. She left the log house in the blizzard to…" He was going to say hunt Bigfoot but he didn't know if the Chinook feared or revered the creature, so he didn't mention it. "To gather some snow in a bucket to make water, but she never came back. She got lost I think," he lied. "If you could send people to look for her, Artemus and I would be very grateful."

Spotted Moose shook his head. "It's the middle of the night, James. We'll start the search for your friend tomorrow morning; I hope your friend has found a refuge in which to take shelter, otherwise ... she's probably dead by now." He bowed his head again. "It's a great honor to have you here and a blessing upon all the people of this village."

Looking down at Artemus, he bowed his head again and said something in his language and all the women left the 'sleeping space' cordoned off inside the large lodge with wooden dividers. Then Spotted Moose said, "Take all the rest you need. You won't be disturbed." And before leaving he said, "I sent two of my men to gather your belongings that you left in the wooden house and bring them here."

Jim smiled weakly. "Thanks…"

Exhausted, feeling his eyes closing relieved that Artie and he were safe, but very worried about Moira, he fell fast asleep a few seconds later, a smile on his lips.

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_Much later_

A clap of thunder woke Jim in the middle of the morning.

Looking at the roof of the plank house he realized that the rain was crashed down on it. There was a thunderstorm outside now.

He rolled over to face Artemus and his nose almost met his best friend's. Artie was lying at his side, very close, and he was still sleeping soundly.

Like him he was cocooned in blankets and his head was propped on a rolled fur.

He moved up onto his elbows and glanced at Artie's broken leg. Gray Bear the medicine man had wrapped it in a cloth and had immobilized it between four pieces of wood tied together with bark-made ties.

Behind the woven partitions he could see the silhouettes of people talking in low voices but didn't understand what they were saying.

He lowered himself onto his back and noticed that Artie was looking at him, his eyes glassy, unfocused and he smiled. "Hi Artie, how are you feeling?" He asked.

Blinking slowly, Artemus slurred, "Hurts a little… guess the medicine man made me drink some kind of pain reliever potion… Don't recall." Then he added, "Not dead?"

Broadening his smile, Jim shook his head. "No, you're not dead, and I'm not dead either. Three Chinook Indians found us and brought us to their village. I think the smoke I saw above the trees came from the houses here, and not from a village like I thought." He frowned and ill at ease he said, "Moira's not here. The chief told me that he would send people out searching for her. They will find her… Let's hope she's alive." seeing tears in his best friend's sad chocolate eyes he quickly changed the subject of conversation, "The snowstorm is gone. It's raining, a lot. Gray Bear, the medicine man took care of your injured leg… The good news is, it's not broken. You have 'just' a big, deep cut. But walking is going to be very painful."

But it didn't work. Artie was crying softly now convinced that Moira was dead "She's dead… Moira's dead," he slurred.

Jim shook his head. "You don't know that for sure…"

He had just said that when Spotted Moose entered the 'sleeping part' of the big house and announced, with a happy smile on his face, "She has been found! She's here!"

He took a step to the side and Moira appeared, barefoot on the ground which was covered with a big woven carpet made from cedar fibers. She was wrapped in a blanket and shivering and her soaked hair was plastered to her head.

She smiled and waved. "Hi guys! Missed me?" She asked as the rain started to pound down harder on the roof, mini cascades of drops falling inside.

Spotted Moose said, "I will bring you some food in a moment," then he left the 'room'.

More than surprised the two men looked up at her and a split second later they were both grinning with relief and happiness.

Moira knelt beside Artemus and with a gentle finger, she traced the line of his jaw, his cheekbone, his eyebrow with affection. "I'm really sorry, Magnus. I shouldn't have done what I did. I regret it." She bit her lower lip anxiously. "I won't try to capture Bigfoot again. I promise. Please forgive me?"

Crying with joy now, Artie pulled Moira in his arms and kissed her forehead. "I thought you were dead… I'm so happy you're not…"

Stroking Artie's jawline soothingly, Moira said, "That was close though." She sat cross-legged next to the flames, and glanced at his broken leg. "What happened?"

Moving into a sitting position too, Jim said, "You first."

Moira nodded. "Okay. I somehow managed to find Bigfoot's footprints in the deep snow and I followed them into a narrow passage between large rocks. Then I spotted it. It was turning its back to me. I took the loaded tranquilizer gun and moved closer… and I fell into a pit dug in the ground to trap big animals. It had probably been placed there by the Indians. Bigfoot left without noticing what happened to me. I fell in the middle of sharp stakes ... without being hurt. If I had fallen a little more to the side, I would be dead now. I have been very lucky. I was able to shelter from the blizzard under the thick layer of branches that covered the large trap and which was still in place. I lost Bigfoot and it didn't help me this time. It knew my intentions. Bigfoot left. Damn! I was so close… A group of Indians found me there a few hours ago as rain had replaced the snow and they brought me here. Two women took my soaked and muddied clothes, gave me a blanket to cover myself and led me there. Then Spotted Moose accompanied me here… telling me that you were both in the 'sleeping area'." She smiled. "That's all. I will tell you the long version later."

Jim nodded. "Okay."

She lay down beside Artemus and managed to find his hand amid the blankets wrapping his body. "It's your turn now," she said, holding it.

Kissing Moira's fingers, Artie said, "I'm so happy you're safe and sound – but do what you did to us again and I swear I'll kick your ass for miles!"

Moira pressed a playful kiss on Artemus's chin. "I'd like to see that."

Serious, Artie replied, "I will do it."

Moira nodded. "You will try, but never succeed. You'll have to catch me first and I run faster than you, I always ran faster than you."

Smiling Artie said, "You're forgiven." He then looked at Jim, blinking tiredly. "Tell Moira what happened Jim, I'm too exhausted to do that…" He added, his voice barely above a whisper. Then lulled by the steady drum of raindrops on the roof, he closed his eyes and relaxed against Moira's body, burying his face against her shoulder.

Both Jim and Moira smiled when they heard Artemus, sound asleep starting to snore. He didn't even register drops of rain wich were landing on his hair.

Chuckling softly, Jim moved his partner a little further to the right side.

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_Later_

_In the evening_

It was still raining a lot, the low growl of thunder off in the distance when Artemus woke up – stomach growling it needed to be filled and his mind focused on the smell of cooked food.

He looked up at Moira, dressed in her (dried) clothes who was sitting legs crossed beside him, and holding a bowl containing his meal. "Hi," he said weakly. He glanced on the other side and noticed that Jim wasn't there and then he asked, "Where's Jim?"

Moira placed two rolled blankets behind Artemus's head. "He's with Spotted Moose, discussing how to reach the closest town. I think the Indians will carry us using their canoes. Transporting you in a travois would take several days through the forest and shocks against stones and roots for example would hurt you. it will be faster and more comfortable to travel by canoe." She took a piece of smoked salmon and said, "You need to eat, Magnus, you must be hungry."

He grabbed the bowl filled with pieces of smoked salmon, camas bulbs (onions), wapato (Indian potato) and a few berries. "I can eat by myself," he said. Then he wolfed down the whole food within a couple of minutes, feeling much better after that.

He settled the empty bowl on his lap and yawned. "Feels good…" But suddenly he felt searing stabbing pains in his injured leg. "Ow!" He winced. Within seconds he was pale, shaking and beaded with sweat. "Oh boy!" he let out through gritted teeth, his chest heaving. "Need help… potion," he gasped, urgency in his voice. "Hurts! Need it, now!"

Moira stood watching Artie growing tense and frowning in worry, she said, "I'm going to tell the medicine man to come here. Don't move." Then he left in a hurry.

Gray Bear appeared at Artemus's side five minutes later, holding a bowl containing a green liquid. He bowed his head in respect then knelt beside his 'patient'. Artie's skin is pale and beaded with sweat. "Drink this, it will make the pain vanish." Then he brought the bowl to Artie's lips.

Moira ran her hand across Artemus's forehead, trying to calm him down. "It's going to be alright, try to relax," she said.

Through clenched teeth, Artie rasped, "Easy to say…" his hand gripping Moira's wrist.

Moira gently pulled her hand from Artemus's white-knuckled grip on her wrist and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "Gray Bear is going to make the pain disappear."

Feeling the pain increasing exponentially in his infected wound and swollen leg he drank the potion at top speed grimacing and groaning at the same time.

It was so strong that he felt dizzy a few seconds later and the 'room' started to spin. "Oooh… don't feel so good…" he croaked, his breathing shallow and quick. His vision blurred and his eyes eventually glazed over and fluttered shut.

Gray Bear looked at Jim and said, "I need to take a look at your wound too."

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_The next morning_

It was still raining cats and dogs – but the thunderstorm had stopped – turning the Chinook settlement into a vast mud field, when Artemus woke up, and the first thing he realized was… that his leg didn't hurt anymore, but he was sleepy.

He felt a hand touch his arm and he looked up to see Moira. She was sitting cross-legged at his side and she was smiling at him. "Hi Moira, you okay?" he whispered, slowly.

She nodded. "Yes, I am. How are you feeling?"

He sighed. "Don't know… can't feel… anything. Drugged… " He wrinkled his nose and grimaced as he could smell food. "Not hungry," he said.

Moira smiled. "But you need to eat something. It's not that bad." She glanced down at the bowl she was holding and added, "Smoked clams with a purée of roots and topped with berries. I ate worse… like rats, snakes, big fat worms… I even ate fried beetles the size of my hand."

Grimacing in disgust, Artie, feeling nauseous, murmured, "Stop… please, gonna be sick." He brought a limp hand to his clammy face. "Fever… "

Moira nodded. "I know. Gray Bear cleaned up your wound and bandaged it. But he didn't stitch it. He doesn't think it's necessary. He put some ointment on it to disinfect the wound and facilitate the healing, that's all. And you have developed a fever then. You'll need to see a real doctor." She gently pulled Artie onto her lap and settled his head against her left shoulder. "I haven't played nurse with you for a very long time. Do you remember when it was, Magnus?" She asked, and then she took a smoked clam from the bowl.

Shaking his head Artie replied, "No…I don't," and closed his lips tight when Moira attempted to feed him the shellfish and he gagged.

Moira didn't insist as the next step was vomiting.

She put the bowl aside and said, "Well I do. We were running in the meadow behind my house, trying to catch butterflies in our nets when you stumbled into a rabbit hole, fell to the ground and cut your left eyebrow against a stone. You were 8. You were bleeding – and crying, plus in shock at the view of all the blood rather than from pain, so I tore the bottom of my dress to make a bandage." She smiled. "It was a lovely bandage, covered with little yellow flowers."

Smiling Artemus said, "I remember it now. I hurt my eye too. I had a black eye for days… Yes, I remember. I later washed the bandage and then I sewed it back onto the bottom of your dress."

Moira chuckled. "And it was a very good job. You've always been good at sewing, and that's why you always make great disguises. Which one do you prefer?"

He closed his eyes. "I… love all of my characters… maybe Mojave Mike… I had to use my chemistry set in order to create a stench to go with him. Jim called it… 'Eau de repulsive dirt'…"

Moira chuckled. "Very funny."

Entering the 'sleeping room' of the plank house, holding a pair of crutches, Jim said, "And you used that disgusting perfume with other characters too like Bluebeard the trapper, that aged desert guide and that drunk, scruffy jailbird…"

Re-opening his glassy eyes, Artie nodded. "True."

Smiling, Jim knelt beside his best friend. "A monosyllabic Artemus Gordon is a very rare thing. Still feeling the aftereffects of the painkiller potion?"

Blinking tiredly, Artie whispered, "Yes." Then gathering what was left of his strength, he pointed at the pair of crutches. "For me?"

Jim nodded. "Yes for you, buddy." Showing his partner the crutches crafted in red cedar and decorated with sculpted eagle heads and eagle feathers, Jim said, "Rapid Deer made them for you. You will need them to go to the side of the river to then climb in a canoe. We're leaving for the town of Longview when you're ready – well not before some hours, I guess." Then he lowered them to the carpet.

His stomach growling needing to be filled, now, Jim pointed at the bowl of smoked clams with a purée of roots and topped with berries. "Are you going to eat that?"

Shaking his head, Artie murmured, his words sluggish, "No, am, not." Then, giving a burp of disgust and going green, he gritted his teeth and then buried his face in Moira's stomach.

Moira explained, "He's nauseous." She stroked Artie's head, playing with his messy curls in order to soothe him and then added, "It's going to be okay. Don't vomit on my lap Artemus, please, okay?"

Patting Artie's knee Jim said, "You'll feel better soon. Oh! I have good news. Now that all the snow has melted, I asked Spotted Moose to send two of his men search to for our tent, where the Bigfoot left our guns and my rifle and they found them. I described to them the place where our camp was and they found it easily. They know the forest like the back of their hands. I need to clean them now."

Silence.

He gently shook his partner's arm. "Artie? You still with us?"

Artemus responded with loud snores.

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_In the afternoon_

The rain had stopped – finally - and the sky was turning blue and big white clouds were slowly chasing the gray, rapidly cruising to the west.

Standing up thanks to his crutches, keeping his bad leg off the ground, Artemus looked up at the huge entryway totem pole through which people entered Spotted Moose's rectangular cedar-plank house, impressed. It was the first time he'd seen one.

He knew that the Chinook people were well-known for their woodcarving arts – and his crutches were a beautiful example.

He knew too that the brightly colored totem poles identified the Chinook owner and family of the house and that the carved animals composing it symbolized their guardian spirits. He recognized on top of it the supernatural being called the Thunderbird.

He looked around him and saw Jim in a discussion with Moira and Spotted Moose next to a group of beautifully carved and painted canoes dugout from cedar trees. The river was close and a group of men holding paddles were ready to embark. "Jim! I'm coming!" He called.

He suddenly froze hearing cries of terror and saw women and children flee amid the fish drying racks, a few of them crying out, "Skookum!"

Immediately the warriors standing next to the canoes dropped their paddles to the ground and hurried into their houses to grab their weapons.

Seeing Bigfoot steal armfuls of salmon from the drying racks, Artemus's first reaction was to turn around and face the now armed warriors.

He raised his hand, "Stop! Don't kill it!" He commanded. He saw the Chinook warriors hesitate as the creature grabbed more food – eating a lot of fish too. "It's hungry because it couldn't find any food in the blizzard. It'll leave in a few minutes. It won't harm any of you. It's not a bad creature! It saved my life and my friends' lives too! It's a good creature!"

Spotted Moose intervened, "Listen to him! He's telling the truth! He's a warrior protected by the Great Spirit! Trust him!" Then looking at Artie he said, "I know now why you came here, so that we won't fear the Skookum anymore and let it live in peace – it's a good creature."

Artie nodded. "Exactly!" he said.

Obeying their chief, the warriors lowered their spears, bows and arrows and, like the others, women, children and elderly, they watched Bigfoot raiding the racks of smoked salmon.

He caught Moira's look – filled with the craving to capture Bigfoot, he noticed – and he shook his head. "No, Moira. Let it go." He saw her lower her backpack to the ground and then open it. Then he saw her pull out the tranquilizer gun. "Moira no! Don't do that!"

But Moira didn't listen to Artemus – focused on one thing only, capturing the creature. She took aim at Bigfoot and pulled the trigger. "It's mine!"

But the projectile didn't go far.

It hit Artie who had, in a flash; moved between Moira and the Bigfoot.

Artemus looked down at where the dart had struck his chest and grimaced, his breath hitching at the pain. "Ooh no… not again," he said." He pulled the white-tailed projectile from his skin and tossed it to the ground. But he knew it was too late – he had specially designed those darts to release the full dose of sedative in through the bloodstream in a matter of seconds.

Before Moira could reload, Bigfoot had left, disappearing into the deep and dark forest surrounding the small Chinook village.

In a matter of seconds Jim was at his best friend's side as Artemus, drugged, was staggering feeling the effects of the powerful sedative.

Blinking slowly, Artemius slurred, "White… tail… piece… See you in 12 hours…" Then he closed his eyes and succumbed to drug-induced sleep.

Jim caught Artie in his arms before he crumpled to the ground, holding him up under the arms, then he hauled him across his shoulder.

Glaring at Moira he said, in a commanding, scolding voice, "It's time to leave."

He headed toward the canoes.

Moira looked up at the sky which was ominously dark and noticed that the wind was now whipping through the tall tree branches. A new rainstorm was coming.

She reluctantly followed.

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_Later at night, _

Feeling something wet, cold and steadily hitting his head, Jim woke up and looked up – and saw large water droplets spilling out through the roof of their small makeshift shelter – rapidly built with local tree branches by the group of Chinook Indians on the edge of a small island.

It was pouring down, the hard rain hammering on it mercilessly.

He looked down at Artie then, lying at his side on a blanket, huddled up in his sleeping bag, sleeping soundly, and snoring softly, his mouth slightly agape. He was still feeling the effects of the tranquilizer.

He was oblivious to the world. His hair was still wet from the downpour which had caught them in the middle of the river at dusk and soaked to the skin in less than a minute.

Rising his hand to hide a yawn, Jim glanced at the crackling fire around which their clothes were spread on the rocky and warm ground to dry, the smoke billowing outside thanks to a series of small openings made between the branches and leaves.

He shifted to the side – to avoid the ice-cold raindrops still falling on his head – and looked at Moira cocooned in her sleeping bag next to the 'door'. She was watching the volutes of smoke escaping from the little hut. "You can't sleep," he said to start a conversation.

Moira nodded. "Yes." She looked at Artemus, who was drugged and unconscious. "How long is he going to sleep?" she asked.

Sending Moira a black look, Jim replied, "The dart which you used on him contained enough sedative for a 12 hour sleep."

Moira nodded. "He'll be mad at me when he wakes up."

Gently moving Artie to the side as raindrops were falling on his right shoulder Jim said, "Yes he will, of course, but he loves you as if you were his own sister. Whatever you can do, he will always forgive you. The two of you have a special bond."

Moira noticed Jim's envious tone. The younger man was jealous of that bond. "Yes we have. But you have a special bond with Artemus too, Jim. He always wanted to have a brother – and he found one in you. I'm very happy he has you at his side."

She looked up at the smoke still spiraling up toward the roof made of branches and leaves. "You're not going to forgive me for what I did, right?"

Glancing at Moira Jim said, "No, I'm not. Hurt him again and I swear that I will make your life a hell, and it's not an idle threat."

Moira just shrugged.

On that Jim closed his eyes, and let the rain and the thunder lull him to sleep. Moira stayed awake remembering happy childhood memories with Artemus.

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_The next morning,_

_Longview, Dr. Peterson's office_

Dr. Peterson washed his hands in the sink and then took a towel to dry them. After that he moved toward his patient lying, unconscious on the examination table.

Rain pounded against the windows. "A few hours ago we had snow here, then the downpour came and everything disappeared in a moment," he said.

Jim nodded. "The same thing happened to us in the forest."

He cut away the reddened cloth covering Artemus wound to check the damage and saw that the wound hadn't been stitched and was still oozing blood. "I need to clean and then stitch the wound. Hopefully, it's not infected," he said to Jim standing next to the door, watching Artie sleep soundly.

Jim nodded. "Gray Bear, the Chinook medicine man put some ointment on it to disinfect the wound and facilitate the healing."

Peterson nodded and fingered the oily green substance bordering the wound. "Mmm… It did the job, but this kind of wound needs stitches." He took a bottle of disinfectant and a cloth from on top of a shelf and then began gently cleaning the wound. "You told me he had a bad wound to his leg when you brought your friend here, but you didn't tell me what happened."

Sitting on a chair, pale and exhausted, Jim dragged his fingers through his hair and then replied, his voice low and slow, "We were hunting in the forest when we got caught in a sudden blizzard. We found shelter in a log cabin. Then in the middle of the night a tree toppled and crashed onto it. A big branch landed on my friend's leg. Luckily it didn't break his leg. Three Chinook Indians who were hunting found us and brought us to their settlement. Gray Bear, the medicine man took care of Artemus. Then four warriors brought us here using canoes. They helped us to disembark and they left. I asked for help and a boy ran here to tell you I needed help, and you arrived ten minutes later with a buckboard to transport us to your office."

It wasn't exactly what happened he thought.

Harry Peterson nodded. "And why is your friend deeply unconscious? Did that medicine man gave him some kind of sleeping drug?"

Jim responded, "Yes he did, because he didn't want Artemus to be conscious while taking care of his injured leg. He would have suffered a lot otherwise."

It wasn't exactly the truth either, he reflected. Gray Bear had done that yes, but Artie was heavily sedated because Moira had shot him – a second time – with the tranquilizer dart.

Dr. Peterson nodded. "I'm very happy he did, because this way I can stitch your friend's wound without giving him laudanum. I have no more. I should have had to let him drink cheap, rot-gut whiskey – the best for anesthesia - until he was blind drunk before doing that." Then he finished cleaning the serious wound.

Knowing Artie's high tolerance level to alcohol, it would have taken at least two bottles of whiskey before he felt tipsy, and a third one to knock him out, Jim mused.

The doctor leaned in closer to the wound and observed the split flesh which was now red and raw and the shinbone showing. Gently running her fingers along the edges, he said, "It's deep and I can see a bit of he tibia. It's going to take several weeks to heal."

Jim nodded. "I know. He'll have to stay home being pampered by his mother and Harry, who lives with her and who's a doctor, a very talented one."

Quickly threading a needle the old man said, "It's a good thing, someone will have to clean the wound and change the bandages at least three times a day." Then he pulled the first stitch together. "There's a bruise a little higher on his leg. Was he injured there before?"

Standing, Jim rubbed his bloodshot tired eyes and moved to stand beside his best friend. He took his limp hand in is and pressed it so as to transfer what was left of his meager strength to the older man while watching the needle going in and out of Artie's skin. "He was very lucky it didn't break a second time." He looked down at Artemus's pale and slack face. "It's a good thing he can't feel anything."

Peterson nodded. "Yes, it is. I've treated worse wounds, but it's a bad one. But your friend will recover without any complications."

Jim let out a breath of relief. "That's good to hear."

Peterson nodded. "But it will take quite some time." Then he continued what he was doing, the needle disappearing into his skin at steady intervals.

Feeling a bit sick watching the old doctor doing the stitching as blood dripped from Artie's leg onto the examination table, Jim swallowed hard. He hated to see Artie hurt, injured, wounded and bleeding. "So when can he come home with me?"

Continuing stitching up his patient's wound, the old doctor replied, "Once he's awake he can go home, but I don't know when the drug will wear off and when he'll wake up" Looking up at Jim he noticed that the younger man's face was pale and even a bit grayish. "I think a little pick-me-up would do you good, Mr. West. There's coffee and a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen and some cookies. Go there and take your time. Your friend here will need at least thirty stitches. It's going to take a few minutes."

But Jim shook his head. "No, thanks, I'm okay." He set his jaw and watched the doctor continuing to stitch Artie's wound up.

Feeling his own wound itch he said, "I was injured too, could you take a look at my wound after taking care of my friend?"

The doctor nodded. "Of course."

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_Later_

Dr. Harry Peterson applied the final stitches (thirty five in total) on the wound and again used the disinfectant to clean it thoroughly.

He covered the stitched wound with a layer of gauze and then he fastened the bandage in place. "There, it's over," he said after that. "He'll need crutches. But for now he needs to rest. The beds at the Red Star Hotel are not that bad and they have a small restaurant on the first floor and the food is good." He moved toward the sink again and again washed his hands. He dried them on a cloth and added, "Your friend can sleep off that Indian drug running through his veins here. Go to the Red Star Hotel to book a room for two and then eat something and get some rest. A glass of whiskey won't hurt too." He smiled and looked down at his patient who was still out cold – but now patched up the right way. "Go, I'll keep an eye on him. He's in good hands. Meet me here at the end of the afternoon, your friend will be ready to leave."

Releasing Artemus's slack hand, Jim nodded. "You're right. If you need me, I'll be at the Red Star Hotel. Thanks doctor."

Peterson nodded. "See you later young man."

Jim left the doctor's office and found Moira standing outside, waiting on the boardwalk, leaning against a wooden post of the porch. She was smoking a cigarillo and watching the rain fall in heaps onto the muddy street; creating bigger puddles.

She had a bottle of whiskey in her left hand.

He frowned still upset she didn't accompany him into the doctor's office. "You preferred buying cigars and whiskey instead of coming with me?"

Moira nodded. "Don't be mad at me, Jim, I had a good reason not to accompany you in there. You're his partner, his best friend, his surrogate brother – more, you're his blood brother. You shared everything like twins do for years. I'm just a childhood friend of Artemus." She took a deep drag from her small cigar and puffed out a long, slow breath of smoke. Then she added, "You belong with him, not me."

She was right, so he nodded. "You're right. Can I ask you something? Go to the Red Star Hotel and book two rooms, one for Artie and me and one for you. I need to go to the post office to send a message. I want the Wanderer to be here as soon as possible. Artie needs to see Dr. Henderson in the Washington Military Hospital, the earlier the better."

Moira nodded. "Okay. See you later."

Rain was torrential now and Jim watched people dart across the street, seeking shelter in nearby shops and saloons.

Having spotted the post office sitting on the other side of the street between the hardware and the livery stable, Jim dove out into the pouring rain and sprinted there zigzagging between the puddles and the deep ruts left by the buckboards and the stagecoaches. The deluge was coming down so hard that pretty soon he could barely see where he was going.

Completely drenched and muddy he finally reached the post office.

In the distance the thunder rumbled.

Moira made a beeline for the Red Star Hotel located in front of her, on the other side of the road and entered the lobby as the first flash of lightning briefly split the darkening sky in two.

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_Red Star Hotel_

_Later_

Holding a steaming mug of passable coffee to keep him awake, Artemus sitting on the bed, sent Moira a black look. "I'm not sure I'll forgive you this time," he said, angrily. Then he winced.

He swam back to consciousness half an hour ago with a blinding headache and it was still here, pounding and he felt weak as a newborn kitten.

Moira chose to ignore it and poured herself a new glass of whiskey. "I couldn't help myself, Magnus I so wanted to capture Bigfoot! It was there, it was so close…that I couldn't resist the temptation. You have to understand that. Capturing extraordinary creatures is what I do and love. It's my life." She frowned upset. "Without your intervention I would have Bigfoot in a cage by now. The Chinook would have let me take it as they were scared of Bigfoot. But it will be mine, one day."

Still cross Artemus said, "I hope not!" Then he pursed his lips together in a tight line. "Leave that creature in peace!"

Placing another pillow behind Artemus's back, Jim sitting on the edge of the bed, said, "Let me remind you that Bigfoot saved your life."

She nodded. "I know that, and I'm very happy it did – and happy Bigfoot saved your lives too, but it won't stop me from capturing it." Then she took a sip of liquor.

Still in a bad mood Artie said, "I wonder if you know what gratitude is. Even if Bigfoot is a monster, you owe it your life. You should be grateful to it and leave it alone."

Moira nodded, "Of course I know what gratitude is, but in my job, feelings do not matter, only the result matters. I will go back to the Chinook territory to capture Bigfoot, but later. I know it exists and I know where to find it. It can wait, and I have another project in mind. Before going back to the US, I heard people talk at the Piraeus port about a creature living in a remote part of Greece, regularly appearing before disasters such as shipwrecks, violent storms, and volcanic eruptions."

More than surprised, Artie said, "You're-you're talking about the Chimera." He blinked twice the needing time to process the information. "It's a mythological creature. It doesn't exist."

Moira nodded. "Well, until I find it, yes it doesn't. I guess it won't be an imaginary creature after that. "And then she took a new sip of whiskey. She placed the empty glass on the table lit the light of an oil lamp sitting there and then she grabbed her coat she had folded over the back of the chair. "I have to go now. I'm going to take the next stagecoach to go to Olympia and there I will take the train to Seattle. I will wait for my team there. When it is assembled, we will take a boat to go to Greece to search for the Chimera."

Surprised, Artemus said, "I thought that you would go back to Washington with us."

Moira moved to the other side of the bed and then sat on the edge of it. "I'm not very popular right now, it's better like this, you won't have to put up with me being at your side." Before he could reply something, she placed a finger to his lips and she added, "I'm going to miss you, Artemus." She paused as several streaks of lightning illuminated the room immediately followed by the booming sound of incredibly loud thunder that made everything tremble. Then she continued, "I will write you and tell you my adventures, I promise." Then she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Take care. I love you, little brother." She stood and smiled when Artie caught her hand. "Don't worry, I'll be very cautious." She joined Jim and she added, "Take care Jim, and watch over Artemus here – he's a magnet for trouble."

Opening the door of the hotel room, Jim said, "I will. Take care Moira."

She nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

Sitting back beside his partner, on the edge of the bed, Jim patted Artie's shoulder soothingly. The older man looked both worried and sad. "She'll come back, one day, and in one piece. She is like you, indestructible," he said.

Glancing at the cast the local doctor had placed around his broken leg, Artie said, "Let's go back home. Mission over. – and for the record, I hated it"

Outside, thunder rolled and lightning flashed.

Tbc.


	6. Tag

**THE NIGHT OF BIGFOOT**

**By Andamogirl**

WWW

**TAG**

_Gordon's house, Green Hill, Illinois_

_Two weeks later_

_In the evening_

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jim glanced at Artie's bandaged leg, noticing that the bandage was new, then at his best friend's pale, clammy face and worried, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Shaking his head against the pillow, half-way between asleep and awake, Artemus said, "No, I'm a little sick. Harry cleaned my wound, re-stitched half of it and then bandaged it… He gave me a painkiller… a potion of his… s' very efficient but disgusting." He blinked slowly, his eyes glassy, bloodshot and unfocused. "Feeling like I'm floating…"

Patting Artie's arm, Jim smiled. "Then it's a good drug."

Still blinking slowly, Artemus was having a hard time forming coherent thought. He looked around him, at his bedroom. "I'm glad to be home, finally." He widely yawned. "Took ages to get here…"

Smiling Jim nodded. "You're exaggerating. We traveled from the Washington Territory to here in two weeks. It's quite rapid."

Suddenly a black and white cat padded into the room - the door being open. It jumped on the bed and leaped with feline grace onto Artie's stomach.

It sniffed the human's face and touched its nose to his. Then it started rubbing its head against Artemus's jaw, purring loudly.

Smiling weakly Artemus scratched the cat behind the ears, at which the feline let out a purr of delight. "Yes, that's a good cat…"

The animal arched its back, stretching and yawned, revealing a pink mouth full of pointy white teeth. The cat then started kneading at the bedspread with its paws before finding a comfortable spot at Artie's feet, purring loudly again.

Closing his eyes, Artemus slurred, "Goo' nigh, J'm," as he relaxed. His breathing slowed and deepened and he let himself doze off.

Reaching out, Jim touched Artie's brow – finding the skin warm there.

Dr. Harry Clover entered the room in his turn and then said, "Yes, he's a bit feverish, it's a normal reaction after I treated his wound. It will pass." He too sat on the edge of the bed and pressed two fingers against Artie's neck and then he nodded. "Pulse is alright."

Helena Gordon joined the man she had loved for more than 30 years and kissed with affection the top of Harry's head sparsely covered with white hair. "Let him sleep peacefully. Dinner is ready," she said. She looked down at her beloved son, now snoring and smiled tenderly. "He's strong, he'll be alright soon." And she softly ran her fingers down one stubbly side of Artemus's face. "My boy…"

Standing, Harry took Helena in his arms and kissed her lips tenderly. "Yes, Artemus is going to be alright in a week or so."

The old, petite woman smiled. "Thank you, and I love you," she said. "Now let's head to the kitchen, my beef Stroganoff can't wait much longer."

WWW

_The next morning_

His eyes half-opened Artemus entered the kitchen dressed in his pajamas and bathrobe, barefoot, wet hair wild and damp from the shower.

He was followed by a meowing, hungry cat slaloming between his legs and crutches, tail raised high, curling around his calf and swinging above its back.

Helena Gordon smiled and said, "Good morning, Artemus. How are you today?"

Opening his eyes, blinking in the morning sunlight, Artie leaned his crutches against the round table covered with a flowery napkin. "I'm alright mom," he said, then he sat on the chair, wincing. Seeing his mother frown as if she didn't believe him, he reddened a little in shame and rectified, "My wound still hurts… but with Harry's help, the pain won't last."

Helena who hated lies – even if they were meant to make her feel better – nodded and said, "I prefer that." Then she leaned down to place a tender kiss on her son's forehead. "I love you."

Kissing his mom's cheek, Artie replied, "Love you too mom."

Helena placed a plate filled with Racuchy z Jablkami (Polish Apple Pancakes) in the middle of the table and then she headed toward the stove.

Suddenly the black cat with white legs leaped on the chair beside Artie who stroked the elegant feline under its chin eliciting loud purrs.

But White Socks was still hungry so she meowed.

Artemus let out a long yawn as he stretched his arms above his head, like a cat, then he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

He took the pot of milk sitting on the table and a saucer and poured a little milk inside. White Socks immediately leaped on the table and lapped up the milk, making small slurping sounds.

Helena took the pot of freshly brewed coffee waiting on the large stove, a cup from the cupboard and poured the black, bitter beverage into it.

She settled it in front of her son who took it and the she asked, "How was your night?" Then she waved a stern finger. "No lies Artemus!"

He shook his head. "No lies. I promise." He petted White Socks on top of her head, still busy lapping up the milk and then replied, "I didn't sleep well. Not because of the pain in my leg, Harry gave me a painkiller before I went to bed last night, but because I had nightmares." He took a sip of coffee – and a pancake and added, "I was lost in the blizzard, I was very cold, I was looking for Jim and Moira ... and when I found them, they were as blue as the summer sky ... and rigid, like corpses. Then Bigfoot broke my ribs and I died suffocating, drowning in my own blood…" He poured a little milk in his very hot coffee to cool it and said, "That's all I remember. It was very graphic…it looked very, very real. I still remember them vividly." He buried his face in his hands for a few seconds, then ran his fingers through his wild curls trying to tame them. "It was horrible mom. I woke up screaming, sick and soaked with sweat…"

Moira kissed her son's temple with love, soothingly. "Don't worry, Artemus, those nightmares will disappear with time."

Finally realizing that he was alone with his mother in the kitchen, plus White Socks; Artie asked, "Where are Harry and Jim?"

Helena placed a second plate in front of her son which contained an open-face sandwich made with warm and crispy bread, ham and tomato and on the side there was scrambled eggs with big slices of smoked Polish sausage (kiełbasy wędzone) and sliced pickles. "They left at dawn. Mara, our younger mare is ready to have her first foal and Harry needed help. They left about two hours ago."

Artemus licked his lips hungrily. His mother had prepared a Polish breakfast for him. "Thank you mom, I love it looks delicious." And he showed a content smile on his face.

Helena smiled. "I know that you love that breakfast."

Suddenly the door opened and Harry and Jim entered the room and headed toward the table, stomachs grumbling.

Harry said, "I could smell the scent of cooking food from the hallway… Mmm, you prepared Polish breakfast. I love it." He wrapped his arms around Helena's waist; leaned down and placed a kiss her forehead. "I love you," he added.

Sitting on a chair beside Artemus, Jim said, "I'm famished!" and then he eyed his best friend's breakfast hungrily; licking his lips. "I love it too." He glanced up at Artie and noticed that he looked crumpled and a bit gray and worried, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Shaking his head, Artie said, "No, I still have stabbing pains in my leg and I had nightmares. But don't worry about that. They will pass with time."

Jim nodded in confidence. "I know. You're the strongest man I know." He stroked White Socks between his ears and the cat purred. Then it leaped to the floor and padded outside the kitchen. Then he reached out toward his best friend's plate.

Protecting his plate with his arm, Artie said, "Don't even think of it. It's mine! I'm hungry too." Then he took up his fork and his knife.

Helena poured hot, steaming coffee in a mug and placed it in front of Jim. "I'm going to prepare the same thing for you, Jim," she said.

Smiling at Artemus's mother Jim said, "Thank you very much Helena." But he as he couldn't wait and loved to tease Artie too, he stole half of Artemus's sandwich and wolfed it down in a matter of seconds, ignoring his partner's glare. "Absolutely delicious!" he said.

Rolling his eyes, Artie sighed. "What are you? Five?" Then he smiled at his mother when she gave him a new sandwhich. "Thanks mom."

She had prepared a dozen of them.

Chuckling softly, as he loved teasing Artie in a playful way, Jim took a couple of Polish Apple Pancakes and set them down beside his mug of coffee.

In retaliation, Artemus grabbed one and bit into it, looking at his best friend straight into his eyes. Then he wolfed down the other pancake.

Helena gave Harry a mug filled with black coffee and a shot of brandy. She grinned and said, "If I did not know you both, my boys, I would think you are siblings." Then she headed back toward the stove to prepare Harry's breakfast.

Artie looked the older man. "How are Mara and her foal?" he asked before taking a sip of his _café au lait_.

Harry took an apple Pancake from the plate and replied, "They're both fine but the birth was difficult. I named the foal Coal because he's all black." Then he looked down at the plate that Helena had placed in front of him on the table.

Using his knife and fork he cut a piece of Placki Ziemniaczane (Polish Potato Pancakes) and dipped it in a pot of sour cream. Then he diced his two smoked sausages.

Helena placed a new plate in front of Jim and said, "I prepared your favorite breakfast, Jim." And she watched him look at the Semolina porridge with blackberry syrup (kasza manna) hungrily. "Enjoy your meal."

Glancing at Artie's mother, he smiled and said, "Thank you." And he moved away from his partner, moving closer to Harry, taking his plate and spoon with him.

Rolling his eyes again, Artie huffed and shook his head. "I'm not gonna eat your food, I prefer mine." Then he started eating his Jajecznica (scrambled eggs with Polish sausage), and he couldn't help letting out happy noises.

Helena sat on a chair and took an apple pancake from the plate. She said, "I'm glad to see that your injury and pain don't stop your appetite, Artemus."

Shaking his head, Artie replied, "No, impossible," with his mouth full.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and everyone watched a short, round-shouldered man dressed in black clothes enter the room, a cigar clenched between his teeth.

Ulysses S. Grant smiled and asked, "May I come in?" then he took off his black wide-brimmed hat and placed it on the dresser.

Harry and Jim stood and Helena too. Artemus tried too but stabbing pains in his bad leg made him change his mind.

Helena moved toward the POTUS, bowed her head in respect and then she said, "Of course, Mr. President. You are welcome here and you will always be." She took his coat, folded it over the back of a chair and gestured to the table. "Can I offer you something? I prepared a Polish breakfast."

Grant glanced at the different meals covering the round table and nodded. "With pleasure," then he followed the petite, old woman. He shook hands with Harry and Jim then took his place beside Artemus, and they shook hands too. "How are you Artemus?" He asked.

Catching his mother's long look saying "don't lie!', he chose to tell the truth to Grant. "It still hurts, but I feel much better, Sir. Harry told me that I won't be able to walk normally for three weeks minimum. I'm going to spend my medical leave here, at home."

Grant nodded. "It's a great idea. It's ideal to be able to rest with your family." then he smiled when Helena placed a mug of hot coffee and an ashtray in front of him on the table. "Thank you Mrs. Gordon," he said.

Curious Jim asked, "What brings you here, Sir?"

The President took a sip of coffee and said, "I needed some vacation, so I chose to go to Galena and stay here for a week. As I love riding, I saddled a horse and I went for a ride, and I ended up on top of the hill close to your house. I knew that Artemus was here, and I wanted to say hello… and tell him that I have news about Miss O'Donnell."

Artie immediately asked, "Moira? How is she?"

Grant smiled. "She's alright, be reassured. She sent a message yesterday to Colonel Richmond. She is fine. She didn't take a boat to Europe, but instead she headed to Alaska to find a mythical creature called the Tiz… Tiz-something." Then he puffed on his very long and very strong cigar.

Smiling too, Artie said, "She's incredible!" He pushed the plate of Racuchy z Jablkami toward the President and then added, "The name of this creature is Tizheruk, Sir. It's a large snake-like creature that is said to inhabit the waters near Key Island, Alaska."

Curious Harry asked, "And what does it look like? And do?"

Looking at the old 'country doctor', Artie replied, "It is said to have a seven-foot head and a tail with a flipper. The local Inuit claim that it has snatched people off piers without their noticing its presence." He took an apple pancake and bit in it.

Frowning, Jim asked, "Can she find that creature?"

Artie nodded. "If it exists, she will. She found Bigfoot, remember?" Then he looked at the President of the United States and asked him, "What is the news in Washington, Sir?"

The end.


End file.
